One Inch
by Caderyn
Summary: One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras. Also features one-sided Marius/Éponine and one-sided Enjolras/Grantaire (E/R), as well as Joly/Musichetta/Bahorel. Cover Art by pennylanes (thanks!).
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** One Inch

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** _Les Misérables _and all its associated characters do not belong to me. Also, I do not have a medical background, so please suspend disbelief with me (you will see what I mean).

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes:** This fic is the definition of AU, since I'm curious to explore how (or whose) lives would have been altered had Éponine survived.

* * *

**One Inch**

**Chapter 1**

One inch.

One inch was all it took for her life to be spared. The soldier pulled the trigger and had the bullet hit her one inch to the side, it would have pierced her lungs and there would have been nothing that anyone could have done to stop her from painfully bleeding out with every breath she took.

As such, she twisted the mouth of the rifle to such an angle that the bullet hit her square in the chest, but managed to miss every vital organ and exited out the back.

It was a one in a million shot that, unbeknownst to those affected, had dramatically altered the fates of four people.

Still, Éponine fell and started bleeding profusely after she was shot. She had done it for Marius to save his life. Her mind was filled with his name as (she thought) she lay there dying. It took a while for Marius to notice her state, but when he did, he rushed to her side. She gave him Cosette's letter, feeling happy that he was finally holding her, happy to have the opportunity to prove her love by dying for him. It was a sacrifice that she was content to make.

She didn't feel any pain. Instead, she thought she felt the air beginning to mist, like the sky was crying for her, and spoke of how the rain will make the flowers grow. She finally told Marius how she felt about him and she thought she saw real anguish in his eyes. Maybe he did after all love her too on some level. She made him promise to kiss her after she'd gone. She would have still felt it, she said.

Then everything went black. Éponine thought she'd finally be at rest.

No such luck.

Though Éponine's eyes had closed and her body had gone still, her heart was still beating. Marius did not realize this of course, as he clutched her close to him, not knowing whether it was his tears or the rain that had made her skin and hair feel so wet against his cheek.

He did not see Enjolras nod to Combeferre to take Éponine's body off Marius' arms. He only felt the slight weight easing off his lap and looked to see his blood-stained fingers still clutching tightly at Cosette's letter. He felt Enjolras' steady hand on his shoulder.

Suddenly... "She is still breathing!"

Everyone were startled to hear Combeferre's shout. He was placing his face near Éponine's nose and mouth.

"Yes, she is alive! She is breathing!"

Enjolras was the quickest to rise and beckoned Joly, the other medical student among them, to follow Combeferre into the cafe to try and save Marius' poor friend.

"There is hope yet, Marius," he said to his crying friend. "What is her name?"

Marius rose slowly and looked dazed, "Éponine. Her name is Éponine."

"Come. Let us try and save Éponine."

Enjolras and Marius entered the cafe to see Combeferre bending over Éponine, examining her wound, while Joly had one of her wrists in his hand, presumably checking her pulse. Her other hand was held by Gavroche, who was steadily crying.

"She is my sister."

Marius went to stand next to the little _gamin_, putting his arm around the boy's shoulders.

"How is she?" Enjolras asked Joly and Combeferre in a low voice.

"She is very lucky. The bullet has gone through and does not seem to have perforated any major organs," replied Combeferre. "However, I will need to stop this bleeding if she were to survive."

"Her pulse is very faint. She will not last long if we do not close up the bullet wound," said Joly.

"Can you do so with what we have here?" Enjolras asked, looking around the cafe for what they might use for gauze and bandages.

Jean Prouvaire produced some table rags that he'd found behind the bar. Combeferre took them from him and pressed them against Éponine's wound, "We can use these to staunch the wound for the moment, but these are not sterile. She will get an infection if we use these as bandages."

"I have a small amount of chlorine and hypochlorite in my satchel, but no bandages. Courfeyrac, would you mind?" Joly pointed to his bag, which the other man fetched for him.

"If we survive this, I will never jest again about your hypochondriac tendencies, _mon ami_," said Courfeyrac.

While the two medical students went to work, Enjolras considered the next course of action. They had to move Éponine out of the barricade so she could receive proper medical treatment. There was no other option.

Seemingly to have read his mind, Joly looked at him and said, "I have plenty of gauze, bandages, and other medical equipment in my apartment, Enjolras. It is not far from here. Combeferre and I can take her through the side street. Musichetta will be nearby. We can leave the _mademoiselle_ with her once we have got her stabilized and we will return with more supplies… Just in case." He added the last bit rather quietly.

"Please, _monsieur_, please save my sister," said Gavroche, his eyes pleading with Enjolras.

In fact, every pair of eyes were looking at him, waiting for his command. It amazed him that his friends would still ask his permission to save a girl's life. It really brought home the terrifying fact that all of their lives were very much in his hands. Did they really think of him that cold, that he was such a heartless statue that he would deprive a young boy an opportunity for his sister's life to be saved? Even if it meant that he would be down two men in the pending fight for their lives.

No, Enjolras was not heartless. Besides, he had a feeling that they would need those provisions. It perhaps spoke to their (or _his_?) youthful confidence (delusion? arrogance?) that they had not even thought to stock medical kits in the _Café Musain_. Even if not for Éponine, he needed to ensure that Combeferre and Joly had ready access to medical supplies. _Just in case_…

"Of course. Go. Do not come back until she is out of danger," he said to Combeferre and Joly, both of whom swiftly moved to prepare Éponine for transport.

"Thank you, Enjolras," said Marius, speaking for the first time since they brought Éponine inside the cafe.

He turned to look at his friend and Gavroche, "You should go with her."

"No, we need all the men we can have," replied Marius resolutely, placing one hand on Enjolras' shoulder.

"Yes, I want to stay and fight, _Monsieur_," said the _gamin_. "I can't help _Messieurs_ Combeferre and Joly fix my sister, but I can help you fight here. I will see her after we have won."

Seeing the determination in the boy's face, Enjolras could only nod in agreement.

Together the group walked Combeferre and Joly to the back of the building that opened up to the side street. Combeferre had Éponine in his arms, while Joly pressed the rags against her chest and held up a light.

"We will be back as soon as we can. A few hours at the latest," said Combeferre.

For once, the members of _Les Amis de l'ABC_ were all quiet as they watched the two medical students walked away in the dark with the wounded _gamine_, not knowing, though perhaps suspecting, that it would be the last time that some of them would ever see Combeferre and Joly again in this world.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Confession, I have neither read the brick nor seen the musical, so my first (and only) exposure to _Les Mis_ was the movie. As such, my impression of the characters comes mostly from the film, but also from a bit of research, other fics, and discussions. So let me know if anyone's wildly out of character. Also, while I have already partially written the next part, I need assistance with the timeline. So would anyone who's seen the musical and/or read the book be able to help me? Where did Jean Valjean take Marius to recuperate? Where did Marius wake up before he went back to Café Musain? And later, when Marius was talking to JV and JV told Marius that he was leaving and to pass a message on to Cosette, where were they? How come Cosette was not there? How come Cosette did not realize that her father had gone, when he left in the middle of the day? I might try and wiki this as well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** _Les Misérables _and all its associated characters do not belong to me. Also, I still do not have a medical background, so please further suspend disbelief with me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras. Also features one-sided Marius/Éponine and Enjolras/Grantaire (E/R), as well as Joly/Musichetta/Bahorel, which are all canon anyway.

**Author's Notes:** Sorry for the delay, but I was out of town all weekend. I was so inspired that I wrote parts of this on my iPhone though (not as hard as I'd thought). Also, thanks to my reviewers and those who answered my questions. The trouble with _Les Mis_is that there are 3 x "canons" (book, play, movie), but I will try my best to reconcile the three. Hope you enjoy this extra long chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 2  
**  
The next several hours ticked by, one agonizing minute after another. Marius tried to calm his nerves by replying to Cosette's letter. He had to convince himself of the correctness of his action. If he could not see her again, then at the very least he could give his life to the cause and dedicate the sacrifice in her name. He believed their love was strong enough that God above would reunite them once more, if not in this life, then the next.

He sent the letter off with Gavroche to deliver, as he thought the longer the boy stayed away from the barricade, the better and safer it would be for him. However, he underestimated the _gamin_'s resourcefulness and knowledge of the streets. Marius spied Gavroche back inside the barricade within the hour. His heart sank a little at that. At the very least he hoped the errand had temporarily distracted the boy from worrying about his sister's fate.

As to his own feelings regarding Éponine and what she did for him tonight, Marius could not yet fully comprehend. If Cosette leaving made him feel resigned to his fate at the barricade – be it death or other outcomes – Éponine almost dying for him conversely made him want to cling harder to live, as if he would be dishonoring her sacrifice if he just resigned to die. He was very grateful to her and his heart ached because he would not be able to reciprocate her romantic notions, but at the same time, what he felt for her was something irreversible and deeper than romance. It was a bond between two people forged when one owed their life to the other. He fervently hoped she survived the night, because he would very much like to see her again and tell her this. Of course this was conditioned on him also living through the fight and this was something that he was not sure he wanted if Cosette was not to be in his future.

* * *

Navigating the streets of Paris at night with a bleeding_ gamine_ between them and barricades erected everywhere turned out to be a more difficult feat than Combeferre and Joly could have imagined.

They had to sneak through narrow side streets and back alleyways, with which neither of them was quite familiar, while trying to avoid being robbed and keeping Éponine from bleeding out.

From what Combeferre could see of the other barricades, it did not seem that the fighting was going well for the revolutionaries, which made him more anxious to finish tending to the girl and return to his friends. If he had had more time to philosophize, he would have wondered whether saving the _gamine_'s life was worth them being away from their friends, when_ they_ might also need them at their sides to save _their _lives. However, this was not the time for deep thoughts, so Combeferre focused only on moving through the streets.

To their frustration, it took the pair almost two hours to reach Joly's home. Joly sent a _gamin_ off with a _sou_ in his pocket to fetch Musichetta, as they had had to go to work on Éponine immediately.

Combeferre was amazed to find that Joly's residence was indeed well-stocked with medical supplies. Like Courfeyrac before, Combeferre had never been more grateful of Joly's eccentricities. They cleared the dining table and laid Éponine there. She started stirring, mumbling something that suspiciously sounded very much like "Marius."

"_Mademoiselle_, can you hear me?" Joly said as he gently checked under her eyelids. "You have been shot, but the bullet has fortunately exited your body. We are working to seal up the wound."

"I think she has lost consciousness again," said Combeferre.

"That might be for the best. Her pulse is too weak for anesthetic."

While Combeferre worked on the wound on Éponine's chest, Joly examined her right hand, which had been burned from holding the muzzle of the soldier's gun as it fired. It was a minor injury, in light of the holes on her chest and back, but if she were to survive, she would not gain back the full use of her hand until it completely healed and scarred. Joly sincerely hoped that her livelihood was not dependent on it.

The two medical students labored in quiet. Combeferre took charge and told the other man that he could tend to the chest wound by himself, so after Joly had finished with Éponine's hand and checked that her vital signs were stable, he started preparing supplies to take back to the barricade.

It was around this time that Musichetta arrived. She marched in, frantic and angry with Joly for going off to the barricade without so much as a proper goodbye to her and demanded to know who the _gamine_ was who was bleeding on his dinner table.

Joly explained the situation in a light, but direct tone, pleading with Musichetta to assist him tonight. Her temper flared when he asked her to look after Éponine because he and Combeferre were returning to the barricade.

"You wish to go back to your barricade?! When all around the city, other barricades are falling and the Army is crushing the rebels?"

"All the more reason our friends will need us, _ma chére_. We cannot abandon them because it is too dangerous."

She was ready to shout another counter-argument at him when Joly added in a quieter voice, "Bahorel is there, Musichetta."

That stopped her in her tracks. Combeferre did not miss hearing Joly used her other lover's name. He knew that Joly and Bahorel had an unorthodox arrangement with the _mademoiselle_, where they shared being her lovers. Combeferre himself could not comprehend it, but this was not the time to ponder over the affairs of love.

"Could you both assist me? I need to turn her on her side to tend to the back wound."

Joly and Musichetta, who had not yet said anything to each other since Bahorel's name was uttered, jolted into action. Joly saw Musichetta give him a pained look from across the dining table. After a few moments though, she looked resigned and gave him a little nod before turning to look at the other man.

"What can I do to help, _Monsieur_?" she asked Combeferre.

Joly took that as her approval. While Combeferre had Musichetta hold Éponine's body, Joly continued on his task of packing the supplies for transport. He came back to the dining room to see Combeferre still working on the wound, while giving Musichetta instructions on how to look after the _gamine_ after they had gone.

Once they were done, the two men moved Éponine to Joly's bed and prepared to leave.

Joly took a moment alone with Musichetta, while Combeferre watched the street outside, waiting for it to clear.

"Promise you'll return to me," said Musichetta.

Joly nodded and folded her to his embrace. She gave him a deep kiss. He wanted to commit the feel of her to memory, every curve, her sweet smell, her soft skin. He had a feeling he would need the memory to sustain his spirit tonight.

After they parted, Musichetta looked at him very seriously and said, "Bring him back."

Joly only nodded again, because he was not sure he could fulfill that promise.

Musichetta walked the two men to the door and watched them disappear into the night.

* * *

Enjolras grew more restless the longer Combeferre and Joly did not return, knowing that the full arsenal of the French National Guard would be waiting for them on the other side of the barricade come morning. The night's tense silence was only broken when a figure in a soldier's uniform sneaked in to their frontline and requested to be allowed in. He claimed to have been a volunteer and even made a show of laying down his rifle. Enjolras questioned the man's motives immediately, given that Javert was still tied in the back for attempting much the same feat. However, all doubts were soon erased when the man proceeded to save the revolutionary leader's life by shooting down a soldier who was aiming his rifle at him from the roof. Grateful for being still standing, Enjolras offered the stranger his deepest thanks.

Upon seeing Javert tied up, Jean Valjean only asked the leader of_ Les Amis_ for the opportunity to once and for all be rid of his mortal enemy. Enjolras agreed, understanding that the stranger had earned the right to ask that another life be taken for his own, and allowed Valjean to take Javert out the back, presumably to execute him.

Besides this brief interlude, the night wore on anxiously still. And Combeferre and Joly still had not come back. It was almost dawn.

His hope fading fast, Enjolras did not even scold Grantaire when the drunkard started passing around a drink to share with his fellow _Amis_. In fact, the so-called "marble statue" almost smiled at the thought that came un-beckoned. For all his talk of alcohol clouding the mind and his consequently harsh attitude towards Grantaire, was this not the _fraternité _that Enjolras so fervently believed in and fought for? Even upon the hour of their deliverance, his friends, including the drunkard, stayed true to each other's sides. Sharing a drink was simply the last means of comfort that they could offer one another.

* * *

Combeferre and Joly found that returning to the barricade was even more difficult than their earlier trip, as the fighting had become widespread and the streets were closed with additional roadblocks. They tried to make their way as swiftly as they could, but they could not ignore legions of injured men, women, and children, who kept calling out to them for help.

These people were not wearing a uniform. They were not agents of the monarchist government. They were revolutionaries like them, who answered the call, or members of the general populace, who were caught in the crossfire.

No, as much as Combeferre and Joly wanted to rejoin their friends, they could not coldly walk by when their compatriots were pleading for help. Besides, they had a duty as future physicians to provide medical help to those who needed it, wherever they were.

The sky was getting lighter and the two medical students were not near enough to their barricade to make it back by morning. The provisions that they had promised Enjolras were also running low. Combeferre and Joly looked at each other's blood-smeared faces with despair.

For the second time that night, Combeferre questioned whether it was right that they were devoting their time saving strangers' lives when their friends needed them to fight by their sides. However, he had no choice but to push these questions of morality to the back of his mind, as the reality was, even if they wanted to rejoin their friends right at this moment, they physically could not, as the way was shut.

They were at the periphery of another barricade when it finally came down in barrage of wood and metal. Though their hearts went out to the fighters beyond, Combeferre and Joly found that the French Army had ironically just cleared the way for them to return to _their _barricade.

The pair was contemplating a way for them to pass undisturbed when Joly was struck with a sudden inspiration. He looked around and whispered his plan to Combeferre.

In the mêlée, it was not difficult for the two students to each drag a soldier's corpse to a nearby secluded street. Though neither was particularly religious, out of respect, they both said a silent prayer for the poor departed souls before stripping them off their uniform and weapons.

Jean Valjean was not the only resourceful gent to employ this trick tonight after all.

Looking convincingly like two National Guardsmen, Combeferre and Joly strode through the newly cleared barricade, hoping they did not have to fight or kill any fellow revolutionary or civilian on their way back to their friends.

* * *

Morning came and there was still no sign of Combeferre and Joly. With his faith in _fraternité_ renewed, Enjolras did not think the two had abandoned them, but he now rather hoped they never came back, as he wished for them to survive. A runner from the other barricades managed to sneak in and informed Enjolras that theirs was the only barricade left standing.

The National Guard would soon be upon them then. This was it. And sure enough, as soon as the sun was sufficiently up in the sky, bullets started flying.

The students took their positions immediately, firing their guns and rifles at the soldiers. Enjolras knew straight away that they were outnumbered. Still, his friends fought on amidst the barrage of bullets. He tried to keep track of where everybody was, but it was too difficult. It was soon dawning on him that they were running out of ammunition. He said so to Feuilly, who was next to him, the implication being that they should retreat back to the café before the Army set their cannons on them.

Before either of them could move though, they were distracted by Lesgle calling out Gavroche's name.

The students watched in horror as the little boy sneaked underneath the furniture in the barricade and out to the frontline. He swiftly collected bullets from the bodies of dead soldiers and tossed the cartridges back to the students. Enjolras had time to wonder if Gavroche was always this courageous or if he was emboldened by what he promised him last night – to contribute to the fight in any way he could – after the leader made the decision to save his sister. He realized that he did not really know Gavroche, despite the boy always being around. He just never thought to get to know him and wished now that he had made the effort.

Sadly Enjolras would never have the opportunity.

Though the soldiers did not notice him immediately, as he was quite small, it only took one sharp-eyed soldier with no compunction about shooting a child to bring him down.

Gavroche was shot several times until a bullet hit him square in the chest – not unlike Éponine – and his little body fell.

Courfeyrac desperately shouted the _gamin_'s name and ran to the edge of the barricade to attend to him. The Army Officer had enough decency to order his men to cease firing as Courfeyrac collected Gavroche's body.

The revolutionaries looked on in despair as Courfeyrac held on to the small lifeless body. Unlike his sister, the boy was shot through the heart. He died instantly.

The officer outside was shouting for the students to give up, that their fight was in vain, as the people of Paris had not risen up. Why waste more lives?

Enjolras looked at the lifeless Gavroche and felt his resolve strengthened.

"He was the first to fall. But he will not be the last."

He looked into the face of every one of his _amis_, his brothers in arms, and they all showed the same defiant expression. "Let us die facing our foes! Make them bleed while we can!"

"Make them pay through the nose!" continued Bahorel.

"Make them pay for every man!" added the still crying Courfeyrac.

As Enjolras ran to his position atop the barricade, he shouted, "Let others rise to take our place until the Earth is free!"

The barrage of gunfire resumed most intensely. Enjolras saw the Officer ordered for the canons to be brought around. The students aimed their pistols and riffles at those soldiers wheeling the artillery. However, it was no use. There were too many of them.

Enjolras again lost track of where everyone was. From the corner of his eye he thought he saw Bahorel falling down the barricade after being shot. However, he had no time to check as the mouths of the cannons were squarely facing them now.

"Fall back!"

The cannons fired several times and the barricade exploded in great chunks of wood. Lesgle, who was standing nearest the structure, was fully struck and covered by débris.

The students could see charging soldiers scaling what remained of the barricade, so they retreated into the café. Someone shouted that they needed to block the door, so Marius, who was still outside, searched for anything he could use to bar the entrance.

It was not long until bullets found him and he went down. Upon seeing this, Valjean rushed outside and pulled Marius to the side and out of the sight of the charging soldiers, who were focused on getting into the café.

Enjolras, Courfeyrac, Prouvaire, and Feuilly, who were all that made it inside, knew that there was no hope, but still they fought on, hoping that they could go down in glory.

* * *

As soon as Combeferre and Joly reached the barricade, they knew that all hope was lost. The structure had been breached and the soldiers were charging towards the direction of _Café Musain_. As they were still in disguise, they pretended to join in the charge.

At the base of the barricade, Joly was distracted by the sight of Bahorel staring lifelessly at the sky. He had bled out from his wound. It seemed that Joly would not be able to grant Musichetta's request after all. He bent down to close his friend's eyes not caring if the soldiers could see him.

"Sleep well, _mon ami_."

Joly had no time to grief though, as Combeferre urgently pulled his arm and dragged him towards the café. It seemed that the final battle would go down within the premises. From the outside, Combeferre could make out a group of soldiers aiming their riffles at the ceiling.

* * *

The top floor of the café was a dead end. The four men were trapped with no ammunition and no way out. The soldiers would soon be coming up the stairs.

Enjolras instinctively stood in front of his friends, attempting to shield them from the pending bullets. Let him go down first, he thought.

He did not expect the bullets to be coming from the floor though.

Without even a moment's notice, Courfeyrac, Prouvaire, and Feuilly fell behind him, their bodies riddled with bullets coming from below.

He was too shocked to feel despair as he stared at his lifeless friends. He made his way towards the end of the room, near the window, clutching his red flag.

_Red, the blood of angry men, indeed_.

He heard the soldiers making their way up the stairs.

* * *

Combeferre and Joly saw the group of soldiers disappeared up the stairs before they trailed quietly after them, picking up any spare guns that they saw.

* * *

Enjolras stood tall with his flag as he faced the soldiers. Before they could aim their rifles at him though, Grantaire emerged from behind them and came to stand beside Enjolras.

For the first time since he had known him, the man who liked to be called "R" looked sober, his eyes shining brightly, as if asking Enjolras if he would permit him to die beside him.

The revolutionary leader nodded and raised his flag in defiance as the soldiers raised their riffles...

Then several things happened at once.

Combeferre and Joly, who arrived at the head of the stairs and saw what was about to occur, fired their pistols at the backs of the soldiers.

The soldiers were sufficiently distracted by the arrival of the newcomers, who were wearing the same uniform as them, that they temporarily took their eyes off Enjolras and Grantaire.

The soldiers at the back immediately returned fire at Combeferre and Joly, who had to duck behind the bannister.

The soldiers at the front returned their attention to the revolutionary leader, but the distraction was enough for Grantaire to act.

As if moving by instinct and with a courage he never knew he possessed, Grantaire pushed Enjolras behind him and out the window, putting his body at the mercy of multiple bullets, all of which hit him squarely on his front side. He felt his knees buckled and his head dropped to the ground. His last thought, before everything went dark, was that he was happy to finally be able to prove his love and dedication to Enjolras.

Combeferre, who saw what Grantaire did amidst the bullet exchange, pulled Joly down the stairs.

"Come on! We have to get Enjolras!"

They were fortunate that the soldiers did not all pursue them immediately, as their lieutenant had ordered a cessation of fire to check on Grantaire and then out the window at the revolutionary leader.

Enjolras, who had fallen very badly on his right side against a large piece of débris, felt blinded by pain. He was certain that one – if not both – of his legs was broken. He also couldn't move his right arm. He was close to passing out, but he looked up to see the Officer looking at him from the window, so he mustered enough strength to crawl away before the other man tried to shoot him from up there.

He looked back at the café entrance and was surprised to see Combeferre and Joly running at him in a soldier's uniform.

Combeferre, who was larger, immediately picked Enjolras up and placed him on his shoulders, while Joly, with a pistol on each hand, covered them, as the group moved away from the café.

They heard the Lieutenant shouting for his men to go after them.

Fortunately, the trio managed to make their way swiftly through the side street, now that the barricade was wide open. Upon the first soldier's corpse that they encountered, Joly dragged him to an abandoned alleyway. Combeferre put Enjolras down and the two medical students stripped their leader off his jacket and helped him put on the soldier's coat and hat. Enjolras wanted to convey his gratitude, not quite yet processing the events of the past several minutes, but before he had a chance to do so, he finally passed out from the pain.

Combeferre and Joly waited in the abandoned alleyway as a group of soldiers ran past. When they emerged, they did their best to appear as two soldiers transporting their wounded friend away from the fighting. No one gave them another glance, so for the second time that night, Combeferre and Joly made their way through the dangerous streets of Paris supporting an unconscious, wounded person between them.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Boy, I'd never written this many action scenes! I considered cutting it, but the events were so interconnected that there wasn't a good place to do it. I hope you don't hate me for "re-living" the deaths of most of the barricade boys! I did say four lives were changed. By not dying, Éponine caused her own life to be saved, as well as those of Enjolras, Combeferre, and Joly.

So there you go, **Eponine Daee**, Combeferre and Joly didn't die after all. And **emmamg****9**, sorry I couldn't grant your wish.

When I first researched _Les Amis_ for this fic, I wasn't attached to any particular one (except for Enjolras, whom I just love from the movie). I didn't like Marius at all, but after researching the book version and play portrayals (Nick Jonas?!), I must admit that Eddie Redmayne is possibly the most sympathetic Marius we could've had, which is why I was quite generous with Marius here.

Anyway, from the descriptions of the barricade boys, I probably liked Prouvaire the best (also helps that the actor who plays him is hot). However, as I started writing this (and re-watched their death scenes many times), I became more attached to all them and considered "saving" more of them. In the end though, Combeferre and Joly survived simply because they were the two medical students. Such is life (and death), no?

Btw, I can now tell you that my whole inspiration for this fic comes from the facts that it was Combeferre who held Éponine's body in the film and that Enjolras and Grantaire died in front of an open window.

Speaking of Grantaire, I realize that E/R is a very popular ship, so hopefully I've done it justice. I believe Grantaire and Éponine are such similar characters that, given the opportunity, he would have sacrificed his life for Enjolras as well.

Finally, I know Éponine didn't appear much in this chapter and she is still very much in love with Marius, but fret not, this is definitely an Éponine/Enjolras fic!

Stay with me and review/follow/favorite if you like it, please!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** _Les Misérables _and all its associated characters do not belong to me. This chapter also contains some more medical stuff and I am still not a doctor, so again, please continue to suspend disbelief with me ;-).

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras. Also features one-sided Marius/Éponine and Enjolras/Grantaire (E/R), as well as Joly/Musichetta/Bahorel, which are all canon anyway. Bonus: Combeferre/Joly friendship.

**Author's Notes:** Thank you so much for all the reviews/follows/favorites! You have no idea how much they motivate me to write more :-). I could not believe when I saw that this chapter was even longer than the one before!

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Éponine woke up with a tremendous pain in her chest and in a room that she did not recognize. She felt disoriented and wildly confused.

Did she not die in Marius' arms?

However, that was oddly not the last thing she remembered, as a queer memory came to her. It was of her and her brother talking in their childhood home, the inn in which they lived before the Thénardiers lost their fortune. It must not have been a real memory, because the siblings looked their current age and also cleaner. She tried to recall what was said between them, but the voices became muffled, like they were underwater, and the memory rapidly slipped away from her mind. Try as she might, she could not hold on to it; it was like holding water in one's palm.

_Water_.

She suddenly felt very thirsty, her mind reeling. She tried to sit up, but the pain in her chest made her yell out.

A _grisette_ that she did not recognize appeared before her.

"No, do not try to sit up. _Monsieur_ Combeferre made sure to tell me not to let you move too much, lest you re-open your wounds," she said.

Her mind swirling with so many questions, Éponine tried to speak them all at once, but she only managed to croak out, " Water."

"I will fetch you a glass. Please lay back down, _Mademoiselle_."

Éponine did as she was told, trying to arrange her thoughts. Where was she? She must have survived the gunshot wound. But how could that be? She was bleeding quite heavily and she felt her life slipping away as she lay in Marius' arms.

_Marius_.

Where was Marius? She turned to the window and saw that it was light outside. She had to leave and find Marius. She tried to rise, but the unknown _grisette_ returned.

"Oh no, please do not move." She laid a palm on Éponine's shoulder and gently pushed the _gamine_ back to bed. "Here. Drink this."

Éponine took the glass of water gratefully and drank big gulps, choking a little as if her throat had forgotten how to receive liquid.

"You must be confused," said the other girl, taking a seat next to the bed. "I was told your name is Éponine? I am Musichetta. This is _Monsieur_ Joly's residence. I believe you know him?"

Éponine nodded vaguely, as she was still preoccupied with gulping down as much water as she could.

"He and _Monsieur_ Combeferre brought you here last night from the barricade. They fixed the wounds on your chest and back, as well as here on your hand," Musichetta continued as she gently took Éponine's bandaged right hand.

The _gamine_ had finally drained the glass. She was still thirsty. Yet she had to know what had happened at the barricade (and to Marius especially).

"Where—?" she started to say, but Musichetta cut her off.

"Where are _Messieurs _Joly and Combeferre?" It was not what Éponine had intended to ask, but the other girl seemed too distracted to realize it, "I do not know. They went out again last night to return to their friends, but I heard word that all the barricades had been torn down. Yet they still had not come back. Where could they be?"

Éponine felt like she had been shot once again through her heart. If the barricade had gone down, then there was a chance that Marius was...

No, she was not going to entertain such thoughts. She could not imagine persisting in a world where Marius was no longer living.

Apparently, she had started breathing very rapidly, as Musichetta looked at her with concern and helped her to sit up, so she could take in air with greater ease.

"Deep breaths, _Mademoiselle_. Deep breaths. Believe me, I have also been sick with worry all night. The thought of my Joly out there… But I must wait for him here." The _grisette_ seemed to be wondering something as she studied Éponine's face, "Forgive me if this is indelicate… But is _Monsieur _Combeferre your lover? You seem to be too young for him, but who am I to judge the love affairs of others?"

Éponine was so startled by the question that her panic attack subsided.

"No," she replied, her voice still raw. "No, _Mademoiselle_. He is not my lover. In fact… I do not quite know why they saved me. They hardly knew me."

"Well, they are decent men, Éponine. They exist still in this world," she gave a little smile. "How did you come to be in the barricade then? Were you joining in the fight? I could not help but notice that you are dressed as a boy…"

Éponine looked down at her clothes and was not surprised to see that they had been torn — from when the two _messieurs_ tended to her, she supposed — and horribly stained with blood. Her chest bindings had been replaced with clean bandages, so at least her modesty was preserved. She must have looked quite terrible.

Musichetta noticed the young girl's expression, "Do not fret. I will go fetch clean clothes for you when Joly returns. I work as a seamstress and sometimes ladies neglect to claim their dresses back."

Éponine was barely listening, however. "Thank you, Musichetta. But I must be going back to the barricade. My friend and brother are there. I went there last night to be with them. They _need_ me." She tried to stand up again.

"Please, Éponine. You cannot leave. It is not safe outside and I promised _Monsieur_ Combeferre to keep you here."

Éponine found that she was indeed too weak to move and any further arguments she could have offered were interrupted by the sound of a great ruckus coming from the kitchen.

"Musichetta!"

The _grisette_ jolted up from her sitting position and rushed out of the bedroom, her heart swelling. It was Joly's voice. He had returned to her after all, as he'd promised.

Musichetta walked in to see Joly and Combeferre supporting an unconscious man that looked to be in a terrible condition. All three of them were oddly wearing a soldier's uniform. They dragged him to the dining room and put him down on the same table where Éponine had lain hours before. Her blood stain was even still visible, though Musichetta had tried vigorously to scrub it out.

"What had happened? Who is this man? Where is the rest of them?"

Joly, his expression brightening, grabbed her face with blood-stained fingers and kissed her firmly, "I have never been more happy to see your beautiful face, _ma chérie_. I will tell you what happened later, but for now, we must tend to our friend. Could you please boil some water for me and fetch some sheets from the bedroom?"

Musichetta was very stunned, but got to work immediately. After she had put some water on the stove, she ran to the bedroom, where Éponine was waiting for her anxiously.

"What is happening, Musichetta? Did they return? Did they bring someone with them?"

"Yes, they have come back with a man I do not recognize. He is in a bad state. They are working on him in the dining room."

"What does he look like?" Éponine asked urgently. She wished she could rise and see for herself, but her head was spinning.

"I cannot tell. His hair and face are covered with blood," Musichetta replied gently. She spared a sympathetic glance towards Éponine before walking to the door, "I am sorry, I must get these sheets to Joly."

"Please find out who he is for me, Musichetta!" shouted Éponine through the doorway.

Musichetta returned to the dining room to watch the two men busy at work. She handed the sheets to Joly and went to check the water in the kitchen.

"Big gash on his forehead, but it has clotted and… there is no other head wound. I do not like the look of this bullet wound on his shoulder though," said Joly who was standing on Enjolras' left side.

"Fractures in the lower arm, thigh, and leg," said Combeferre from Enjolras' other side as he checked each area. " But we cannot set the bones until we reduce the swelling. How are his vital signs?"

Joly checked under his eyelids and monitored his pulse, "Pupils are responsive, pulse is… weaker than normal but stable."

"His ribs also appear to be fine, so we do not need to worry about a punctured lung. There is minor hemorrhaging around the liver."

"I do not see any other gunshot wounds, Combeferre. His blood pressure also looks good, so I will tend to the shoulder first."

With that, the two medical students went to work. Musichetta re-appeared not much later with the water. She watched them work with much amazement. Though the situation was clearly urgent, the two men labored calmly and efficiently. They had fixed more wounds in the past half a day than in the entirety of their time at university thus far.

Combeferre looked up at Musichetta as he completed his task, "How is the other _mademoiselle_?"

"She awoke recently, _Monsieur_. She seemed dazed, but otherwise fine." Musichetta hesitated before asking the next question.

"What is it, _Mademoiselle_?"

"Well, she is asking who it is you have brought back." Musichetta nodded towards the wounded man. She was trying very hard not to think about how Bahorel had not returned with them.

Combeferre and Joly exchanged a look.

"This is Enjolras," said Joly. "Our fearless leader." He added the last bit without a hint of irony, as if this was a man that Joly greatly respected, despite being bloody and broken on his table.

"You can tell her we have not seen Marius, _Mademoiselle_," added Combeferre gently. "That is who she is looking for."

"Is he her brother? She mentioned a brother and a friend?"

"No, her brother is called Gavroche. We did not see him either. He is a small boy. Odds are he had gotten out of the barricade before the fighting started."

Musichetta nodded and returned to the bedroom. Éponine was looking at her expectantly.

The _grisette_ sat down on the bed and took the younger girl's uninjured hand, "It is not Marius. They did not see him."

Éponine's face crumpled in despair, but the tears did not come. It seemed that her body was even too tired to cry. "Please, Musichetta. Please let me find him. If he is out there, I need to bring him to safety."

Musichetta's hold on her hand tightened, "Oh Éponine. I am very sorry. Is Marius your sweetheart?"

"No… Not precisely... He is _bourgeois_ and he loves another girl… But I love him. I took a bullet for him. If he were to die, I wished to die before him. I do not intend to live in this world without him."

Musichetta's was startled to hear Éponine's frank admission. She could not comprehend how the girl could persist in loving a man whose heart belonged to another. She herself had never experienced the kind of love that would drive someone to their death. It seemed too tragic. Her heart went out to the girl. She pulled her into a soft embrace, "You are spared for a reason. I promise we will find out what happened to Marius, but you need to rest, Éponine, and get your strength back."

Éponine, who was unaccustomed to receiving such gesture of kindness, was not sure of how to react.

Musichetta broke the embrace, but still kept her hands on the other girl's shoulder, "They also had not seen your brother, Gavroche. We will look into what happened to him as well."

Éponine saw flashes of the odd memory that distracted her earlier. Was it a dream? Did she speak to her brother last night? No, she could not have. She remembered feeling content to see her brother looking happier and healthier than he had never been in his life. Suddenly, she knew.

"I think my brother is dead."

"No, do not say that. _Monsieur_ Combeferre said that because he is a little boy, the likelihood is that he had left the barricade earlier in the night."

"You do not know Gavroche. He had more courage than most grown men." She told Musichetta how her brother ended up on the street. "I wish I had protected him. But I was too selfish."

Musichetta was again taken aback by how plainly Éponine spoke of her misfortunes, so matter-of-fact, as if that was all she knew. The _gamine_ really was not someone upon whom Lady Fortune had often smiled. The thought made her heart break. She wanted to show Éponine that there was still kindness in this world, that God above spared her life for some good reason and not only to prolong her miserable life. _Monseiur_ Combeferre told her that the bullet that had pierced the girl had a fortuitous trajectory.

"Put that to the back of your mind for the moment, Éponine. If you are too restless for sleep, perhaps you should eat. You must be famished. I shall fix you something once I've checked that the gents do not need my help."

Éponine just nodded her assent. "Oh, who is it then that _Messieurs_ Combeferre and Joly brought back?" she asked distractedly.

"It is the one called Enjolras. He is — as my Joly claimed — their 'fearless leader'. Do you know him?" Musichetta asked, but when Éponine did not reply and looked lost in thoughts, the _grisette _left her to it.

Éponine did not really know Enjolras, but she supposed it was fitting that he survived. He always seemed so invincible, as if he was not quite mortal. The only time she ever saw him show emotion was when he gave his speeches and, though she did not doubt his passion, it also seemed that it was the only human emotion that he knew, that he was _capable_ of showing. It was as if he was an agent of _Liberté_ fashioned by the gods for only one purpose in this world, and that was to rally the masses with rousing speeches and courageous rhetoric.

_And to get young, foolish men killed._

Éponine could not help the unkind thought that materialized in her brain. For, as righteous and just as Enjolras claimed his cause to be, what good were flowery words against piercing bullets and exploding cannons? Talks of _liberté _and ___é_galité do not feed empty stomachs and put coins in empty pockets.

She wished now that she could have told him this… before he got his friends killed… before he got Marius killed.

She must confess that whenever she was around Marius and his friends, she never thoroughly listened to the words that spurred them to action. She only cared because Marius cared and joined the fight because she wanted to die with him. But now that God has spared her life, she saw the futility in it all.

Processing these thoughts about Enjolras and Marius and their friends must have drained the last reserve of energy that Éponine had. She laid her head back down on the pillow and soon fell asleep.

Meanwhile, Combeferre and Joly had finally finished tending to Enjolras' wounds. They each pulled a chair and sat back in exhaustion. They looked at each other and could hardly believe that they had survived the night, given all they had gone through.

"We will need to find a surgeon, once it settles outside, to properly check our casts and possibly re-set his bones," said Combeferre.

"Yes, I know a man who could be discreet," replied Joly. He walked over to a shelf and picked up a bottle and two glasses. "Here, I think we've earned this," he said, as he poured dark amber liquid into the glass tumblers.

"_Merci_," said Combeferre as he took a glass. "Here's to you, _mon ami. À ta santé_."

The two men clinked their glasses and downed the liquid in one go. Joly poured them some more.

Tired as they were, Combeferre and Joly started discussing plans for their next course of action. Obviously, they needed to find out the fates of their friends. They knew for certain that Bahorel and Grantaire were killed. But where were the rest of them? Courfeyrac, Prouvaire, Lesgle, Marius, Feuilly? Perhaps Enjolras could tell them when he woke up.

Speaking of whom, since the Officer witnessed the revolutionary leader's escape, there was a great likelihood that there would be a warrant issued for his arrest. Combeferre would try and sneak into Enjolras' dwelling to pick up items that his friend would need, but Enjolras should definitely not return home. Joly's apartment was too small to accommodate him, so it was decided that they would try and move Enjolras to Combeferre's residence as soon as it was opportune.

Joly wondered whether the Officer would also recognize them as Enjolras' rescuers, but Combeferre thought it unlikely, as they were wearing a uniform and were not strictly present at the barricade all night. Combeferre pointed out that, if needed be, they could call upon numerous citizens of Paris who would testify that the two of them were providing medical aid to various people until dawn.

Joly thought Combeferre made a valid point. He would go and fetch that surgeon today then. He would also visit the hospitals to see if anyone they knew had been admitted for injuries. Combeferre said that he would check the prisons and find out if anyone had been arrested, which was a possibility.

However, if their friends had all perished, which they did not wish to consider, as the thought of Bahorel and Grantaire was enough to cripple them with grief, then they needed to find a way to claim the bodies for the families…

Somewhere at the back of their minds they knew that this was the likeliest scenario, as the scene they interrupted at _Café Musain_ looked very much like a final stand. But neither Combeferre nor Joly wanted to entertain this possibility for very long, so they returned to talking about the hospitals and prisons, trying to convince themselves that their friends would be found there.

Musichetta walked in then from the kitchen, where she had been preparing some food.

"_Messieuers_, you cannot seriously intend to leave again, are you? You were running around all night! You need food and rest."

She handed each of them a bowl. Joly reached for her, pulling her onto his lap, his arm around her waist. His fingers squeezed the soft flesh there in gratitude.

"You worry about me too much, Musichetta." He gave her a quick kiss on her shoulder. "I am very grateful."

"Eat your food. And then you should rest. You too, _Monsieur_ Combeferre."

She walked away to take food to the now sleeping Éponine.

Combeferre looked at Joly over his bowl, "Are you going to tell her?"

"Yes, I suppose I have to, don't I?"

When Musichetta returned, Joly took her hand and looked up at her, "Have you yourself eaten, _ma chérie_?"

"No."

"Then take a bowl for yourself and come dine with me in the parlour."

Combeferre thanked the _mademoiselle_ for the food and begged their leave then, saying that he would go home for a few hours to clean up and rest. He promised to return before dusk.

After the other man left, Joly and Musichetta took their meal to the parlour, where Joly then proceeded to break the news about Bahorel.

He was very gentle with her, but she still broke down in anguish, sobbing into his shirt as he put his arms around her.

As the full implication of his friends' deaths hit him, Joly felt tears sliding down his cheeks as well and onto Musichetta's hair. He wept for Bahorel, who bled to death all alone; and for Musichetta, who loved him; and for Grantaire, who showed tremendous amount of selfless courage in his last moment and saved Enjolras; and for the rest of his friends, who were most likely dead, even if he did not wish to believe it. He even cried for Enjolras, whose revolution had failed, and for Éponine, who failed to die for someone who did not return her love. They were both badly wounded and now had to work at surviving. And he cried for the people of Paris, and of France, who were bleeding and dying, while their government kept them at shackles.

Though Joly was known for being consistently "jolly", he was not immune to sadness. In fact, it was perhaps due to his willingness to face his emotions head-on, that he was able to move past them and return to his happy state much quicker than the average man.

The pair ended up lying down on a divan, still in an embrace. Once the tears subsided, Joly felt unreasonably exhausted. The feel of Musichetta's soft body against his was so comforting that he closed his eyes for a moment and fell into a deep sleep.

Musichetta heard Joly's light snores and could not help but smile from where she lay on his chest. She looked up at his face and reached a hand to move some hair from his eyes.

She did so very much love him.

But she also loved Bahorel.

Others did not understand, but what she felt for them was real. She thought that love was such a glorious thing that it needed not be caged and channeled into just one person. She was fortunate to have found two lovers who did not wish to possess her, who never made her choose.

It was only recently that she started thinking about the future. The laws of the land had not changed to allow her to marry two men, after all, so she began to consider whether she should decide between them.

She found it very difficult. Joly had such an infectious happiness that Musichetta could not feel any other way when she was around him, while Bahorel was so bold and exciting that his presence thrilled her. And they were both fantastic lovers. The only edge that Joly had over Bahorel — and it was only in the most fleeting of moments that she thought it — was that he had more fortune.

She felt wretched as soon as the thought entered her mind. She chastised herself and begged forgiveness from God.

Well, she thought savagely, God had certainly made the choice for her now, had He not?

She could not help but feel at guilt for it. There was nothing to do about it now, however, except to live with it. Joly would find a way to recover Bahorel's body and the two of them would give him the most proper send-off.

She reached up and gave Joly a quick kiss on the lips. She would go out and fetch those clothes for Éponine. Perhaps she might also try and ask around if any of the street children could find out the fates of Marius and Gavroche. She very much hoped for the girl's sake that at least one of them was still living.

* * *

For the second time that day, Éponine woke up momentarily disoriented about where she was, yet feeling more refreshed and energetic than before. It did not take her long to remember that she was in the home of _Monsieur_ Joly. She saw that Musichetta had left some food and water on the table next to her. Her stomach grumbled, so she grabbed the bowl and ate the soup ravenously, not even caring that it was cold. She drained the glass of water in one go, her throat feeling much better.

She looked out the window and estimated that it must be afternoon. She wondered if she could get up. Her chest still hurt, but she no longer felt dizzy.

She swayed a little as she stood, holding on to the bedpost. She walked slowly out the bedroom, seeing a man who she thought to be Joly asleep in the living room. She must admit that she never paid much attention before to the names of Marius' friends, except for Enjolras, perhaps, whom she knew because he was the one always making the speeches.

Speaking of whom… She spied the "marble statue" himself as she entered the dining room. She walked slowly to the table where he rested.

Now more than ever he resembled his moniker, as he lay there unmoving. Not that she thought he would be able to, given that his friends had bound his leg, arm, and shoulder in some thick, plaster-like material. They had taken off his shirt but had covered him with a thin blanket. They had also made an effort to wipe the blood off of him, as his skin gleamed white and pale, which made him look even more like an un-living marble statue. His hair was still caked in blood though and there was a black smudge on his cheek that the _messieurs_ had missed to clean.

Éponine did not know why that distracted her so, as if the dirt was disturbing the image of him as a perfect statue. Without realizing what she was doing, she licked her thumb and applied it to Enjolras' cheek to rub off the smudge. Contrary to appearance, his skin was actually quite warm.

She was startled when his eyes suddenly opened. She snapped her hand back so quickly, hoping he did not notice what she just did.

He looked at her with an odd expression, as if not quite registering who she was, which was possibly quite a fair assessment, as Éponine did not believe that the revolutionary leader knew who she was.

However, he was to surprise her for the second time in the last few seconds, as he said slowly, "Éponine?"

"Yes, _Monsieur_?" _You know me_? — She almost added.

"Where am I?"

"I believe we are in the home of _Monsieur_ Joly. He and _Monsieur_ Combeferre brought you here this morning."

All at once, the memory of the past day came rushing back to Enjolras, his eyes squinting in pain as his head started to spin.

"_Monsieur_, all you all right?" Éponine asked with concern as she watched the expression on Enjolras' face. "I do not know where _Monsieur_ Combeferre is, but _Monsieur_ Joly is sleeping in the lounge. Shall I wake him?"

"No, wait," Enjolras grabbed hold of the rushing girl with his left hand, the one not bound by plaster, and the movement created an intense pain in his shoulder, which had earlier found a bullet. It was then that he realized that he could barely move his right side, raising his head to see that both his arm and leg are in some kind of casts.

"What can I do to help, _Monsieur_?" Éponine was peering at him.

His hand was still holding tightly to her sleeve, so he let her go and said, "Water. Could you please fetch me some water?"

Éponine came back a few moments later, holding a glass of water in her uninjured hand.

"This will not be easy, _Monsieur_," she said, as she showed him that she only had one good hand, while he had none at all, lest he wished to disturb the shoulder wound again. "Perhaps if we could support your head…"

She put the glass down to grab some thick tablecloths from the shelf to place behind his head, careful not to move his shoulder too much. She watched him drink slowly at first and then greedily, as his thirst came back.

"Do you want another glass?"

"No, I am fine, _Mademoiselle_—"

"Éponine. Please call me, Éponine. I am just a street urchin after all."

"Very well… Thank you for that, Éponine." He looked at her with an unreadable expression, "I am very glad to see that you have survived the night. When you left the barricade last night, you looked to be in a terrible state."

Éponine took a seat on Enjolras' side, "About that, _Monsieur_. I must know… What happened?"

Enjolras almost chuckled, "Where to start…?"

Éponine knew where she wanted him to start — _Marius! What happened to Marius? Is he alive?_ — but it seemed indelicate, so she wracked her brain for the best way to phrase her question that would not offend the gentleman.

Enjolras, however, had seemingly read the expression on her face, "I do not know what happened to Marius, Éponine. The last time I saw him, he was still outside when the army charged at _Café Musain_… The soldiers were quite focused on those of us inside, so there is a chance that he escaped the fighting." He added the last part without much conviction.

Éponine, however, felt her hope renewed. If Enjolras who was there did not witness Marius' death, then there was still a chance… She would keep faith.

Enjolras, meanwhile, suddenly remembered the news that he had to convey to her_, "_Éponine," he started, trying to hold her gaze, "I am afraid I must tell you that Gavroche is dead. He is your brother, I believe?"

"Yes, I suspected it," replied Éponine plainly, but deflating a little. "How did he die?"

"He was killed while attempting to collect bullets for us… He was shot through the heart, so it was instantaneous. He would not have felt pain… He died a valiant death, Éponine."

Éponine wondered whether there was such a thing as a valiant death — when one ended up as dead as the other corpses — but did not say anything, as Enjolras seemed to be trying to convince himself more than her.

"What about the rest of your friends, _Monsieur_?"

Éponine was to find that the "marble statue" was not such a statue after all, as his face started to crumple a little. "They all died, Éponine… I think… Courfeyrac, Prouvaire, and Feuilly were killed behind me. They just fell… I believe I saw Bahorel went down at the barricade, but I am not certain. I lost track of Lesgle, so I do not know his fate. The same with Marius. And Grantaire…"

Éponine watched in amazement as single drops of tears started falling down the leader's pale cheeks. He was human, after all. But even as he cried, he was composed. He was not openly weeping and his tears did not even seem to redden his eyes.

Éponine was not sure of what to do, so she just placed one hand on his shoulder and hoped that it was comforting.

Enjolras looked up and offered her a small smile, "I am glad I sent Combeferre and Joly away with you. At least they survived."

"And I am grateful to you for saving my life, _Monsieur_."

"It was Combeferre and Joly who fixed your wounds, Éponine. I had nothing to do with it."

"But they would not have taken me away for treatment had you not commanded it."

"You are overstating my powers, Éponine."

"No, I do not think so."

And she could have berated him then — telling him that he needed to be more mindful of his ability to command the loyalties of men, of how his friends would have followed him to the ends of the earth if he asked them to — but she saw how dismayed he was by his friends' deaths and that he was already holding himself responsible. He did not need her to point it out to him.

So instead, she did the opposite. She felt compelled to show Enjolras that not all of his decisions led to death. "I know I may have seemed like I wanted to die last night, but I am glad I survived. And I fully believe that it was because of you, along with _Messieurs_ Combeferre and Joly, so please accept my gratitude. I will pay this debt back to you one day."

She was not even sure she believed what she said, that she no longer wished to die, especially if Marius was no longer living, but she would have felt hideously ungrateful if she had said otherwise.

Anything further that Enjolras wanted to say was interrupted by the sound of someone coming in through the kitchen. Musichetta had come back.

The _grisette_ was happy to see that the two "patients" had woken up and seemed to be coming along fine, given their injuries. She roused Joly so that he could tend to Enjolras and told Éponine that she would help her to bathe, given the bandages on her body.

As Éponine followed Musichetta to the bedroom, she glanced back at Enjolras, who gave her a slight nod, as if saying that he accepted her gratitude and appreciated her attempt to lift his spirits.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** So Éponine/Enjolras finally interacted! I hope you didn't find them too OOC. Keep in mind that they just survived a harrowing ordeal, so perhaps they could be forgiven for being a bit emotional. I think sometimes surviving is actually more difficult than death, so this is something that I am curious to explore for these characters.

I am so glad to have gotten this chapter out of the way. It's definitely not as action-packed, but I think I needed to write a "reaction" piece. And, yay, all of our major players are finally in the same place!

I've decided to let Musichetta call Joly by his last name, thinking that it suits him being "jolly" all the time (I looked it up and apparently "jolly" is from the Old French "jolif" meaning merry/festive/pleasant, though in current French, I believe "joli" means pretty/cute, which also might suit Joly).

Like I said before, I really appreciate all the reviews, followers, and favorites, particularly since É/E had not even interacted until now! Thank you especially to **HLK** and **tinmiss1939**, because I think you especially got what I'm trying to do here :-). Éponine, Enjolras, Combeferre, and Joly are characters that are meant to die. How would they fit in now in the established _Les Mis_ universe?

Please keep reading and review/follow/favorite :-).


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** _Les Misérables _and all its associated characters do not belong to me. This chapter may also contain some historically inaccuracies, as I am not a French history scholar, so please suspend disbelief (or let me know of any errors and I will see if I can fix them ;-))

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras. Also features one-sided Marius/Éponine and Enjolras/Grantaire (E/R), as well as Joly/Musichetta/Bahorel, which are all canon anyway. Bonus: Combeferre/Éponine friendship.

**Author's Notes:** Thank you again for all the reviews/follows/favorites! I have been motivated to write a lot. This is another long one. Thanks in particular to **Concetta**, who helped me with some of the historical aspects in this chapter! :-)

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Enjolras and Joly conversed quietly, as the medical student checked the injured man's dressings and then helped him to take some food. Enjolras told Joly everything that he had conveyed to Éponine regarding their friends, with Joly filling in the blanks about Bahorel. So the only ones who were unaccounted, who might have still survived, were Lesgle and Marius…

It was such a depressing reality and Joly had never seen his leader so overwrought. And while he himself felt fresh grief at the confirmation of what he and Combeferre had suspected, he did his best to comfort Enjolras with fighting words, telling him that the revolution continued still, that they would regroup and avenge the deaths of their fellow _Amis_ once their leader had recovered from his injuries.

Unlike Joly however, Enjolras preferred to internalize his grief — especially not wishing to talk about Grantaire until he himself could process it — so he steered the conversation towards more practical matters.

What could they do to recover the bodies and provide their friends with proper burials?

Joly told him that in the morning, he and Combeferre would try and find out where the bodies were taken to. Enjolras said that he wished to write the letters to the families…

Joly only nodded at that, hoping that the other man did not lay the brunt of the blame entirely on himself. He worried about Enjolras sometimes, who always seemed to have the weight of the world on his shoulders, as if he would be at fault if he did not try to consistently rid it of its injustices.

He told Enjolras that he needed to go out and fetch a surgeon to re-examine the latter's broken bones, as neither Joly nor Combeferre had ever done casts before other than theories learned at school. Lesgle's residence was on the way, so he would check to see if their friend had somehow made his way home. Combeferre should come by momentarily, so perhaps _he_ could go to Marius' apartment.

When Musichetta had finished with Éponine, Joly asked if she and the _gamine_ would not mind keeping Enjolras company for a few hours while he ran his errands. He had prescribed Enjolras with a dosage of laudanum for his pain, so it was likely that the leader might just fall back to sleep. Joly also asked Éponine if she would like something for the pain, but the girl just shook her head, saying that she was anxious to leave and look for Marius. Joly told her of the plan for Combeferre to visit Marius' apartment, so she might as well wait for him.

Musichetta spent the next hour trying her best to wash Enjolras' hair off the blood. He seemed deep in thought and let her do whatever she needed to do without engaging her in conversation.

Looking clean for the first time in months and wearing a dress that Musichetta had brought, Éponine sat restless near the window, waiting for _Monsieur_ Combeferre to come.

The other man finally arrived closer to six in the afternoon, carrying a few large bundles under his arms.

He had stopped by at Enjolras' house, he said, and had packed a few clothes, books, and other vital items. He greeted his leader most ardently, giving the man a careful hug around his injured shoulders.

Out of all the _Amis_, Combeferre was closest to Enjolras, as the former's philosophical nature lent itself to many spirited discussions between the two. Combeferre enjoyed playing devil's advocate to Enjolras' ideals, which the leader found most useful in preparing his speeches.

Combeferre told Enjolras that he had been to the prisons this afternoon. "There is definitely a writ issued for your arrest, _mon ami_. You need to lay low."

"Do they know about you and Joly?"

"No, they are looking for two unidentified soldiers — deserters, they claimed — who helped you escape, but they have not connected it to us."

"I am not afraid of the law, Combeferre. Let them have their trial."

"Perhaps not. But be sensible, Enjolras. You are wounded and will not be very useful to the cause inside confinement."

"How do you intend to keep me hidden?"

"We plan to move you to my place, as there is more room there, but beyond that, it would be best if you leave the city for a while." Combeferre looked at his friend tentatively before asking his next question, "Would you consider writing to your parents?"

Enjolras nixed the idea straight away. He could not think of a worse fate than being at the mercy of his noble parents, especially when he was quite literally unable to flee. "They will wheel in all the society girls, while I sit there immobilized, and attempt to marry me off before the year's end," he said, looking scandalized.

"But will they not wonder about your fate when they hear news from Paris? They are not foreign to your revolutionary tendencies, I suppose?"

"No, you do make a valid point. I shall have to write them something..."

It was then that Combeferre asked about events at the barricade and Enjolras had to recount the whole tragic affair once more.

Combeferre was extremely sympathetic, trying to prompt Enjolras to speak of it perhaps on a more intellectual level. And it seemed to help, but the leader still did not wish to speak about how he in particular came to survive when everyone else died... He instead changed the subject to their missing friends.

"I will go out to Marius' residence then,_ mon ami_," said Combeferre.

"May I come with you, please,_ Monsieur_?" asked Éponine from the doorway.

"_Mademoiselle_—"

"Éponine. Please call me Éponine."

"Éponine, I am happy to see you up and moving," Combeferre said as he approached her. "May I?" he asked, indicating that he would like to check her wounds.

Éponine nodded. Spending time in the streets had not made her very guarded with her modesty.

"As your physician, I would advise that you not exert yourself." He watched her face fell, so he added with a smile, "However, I suppose you would do well with a bit of fresh air."

"Thank you, _Monsieur_."

So the two set off into the evening. The remnants of the night before were visible all around, while gunpowder and blood seemed to be the predominant smells in the air.

Éponine hardly paid attention to any of it, as she focused her thoughts and prayers into finding Marius. Combeferre tried to engage her in conversation, but to no avail.

The made their way to Marius' apartment in good time. Combeferre watched in amazement as the girl picked the lock and essentially broke into his friend's place.

It was abandoned. There was no sign that Marius had gone home. Éponine felt her heart sank.

The arrival of the two figures had unfortunately raised the curiosity of Marius' neighbor and Éponine's father, Thénardier.

"Oh so you're alive then," he said at the doorway to the girl. He seemed to be thoroughly drunk.

"Papa," greeted Éponine in a deflated tone.

Combeferre stared in amazement at the two figures. Was this really her father? He did not even care whether she was dead or alive.

"Don't bother with your friend, here, girl," Thénardier continued, strolling into Marius' apartment, looking around. "He had not returned all night. He is dead."

"Papa, please don't say that."

Thénardier was considering what he could loot from the boy's place, which was unfortunately quite bare, when he noticed his daughter's current companion.

"And who might you be, _Monsieur_?"

"My name is Combeferre. Marius is my friend and I am looking for him."

Thénardier looked at his daughter, seemingly impressed that she had finally used her connection to the _bourgeois_ boy to land a rich client.

"Well as I said, I hadn't seen him come home. Now, if you are 'finished' with my daughter here, I thank you to make your payments with me, _Monsieur_. Éponine, come."

Combeferre felt utterly scandalized, "And I thank you, _Monsieur,_ to not make assumptions." He strode menacingly towards the drunken man. "Your daughter was injured last night. I am her physician and she is in my care. I would normally release my patients to their families, but seeing as you do not seem to hold her wellbeing in the highest regard, I will keep her in my care until she is healed."

Combeferre placed a pouch of money in Thénardier's hand, "And I would appreciate your assistance in ensuring my friend's home here is safe from burglary until his return. It would be a shame if the police were to come by and found a criminal element in the vicinity..."

Combeferre placed a hand on the girl's arm and softly pulled her towards the door, "Come, Éponine. I have an idea of where to look for Marius next." He added the last part quietly so that her father could not overhear.

Once outside, Combeferre looked at Éponine with pity. He began to understand why the girl was so fixated on Marius and why she might have wanted to die last night.

"Where should we go now, _Monsieur_?"

"I thought we might try the home of Marius' grandfather. They are estranged, but it is still a possibility that Marius would go there."

As they arrived at the lofty townhouse of _Monsieur_ Gillenormand, Éponine looked up at the fancy structure and felt rather diminished.

Was this really where Marius hailed? No wonder he never cast an eye on her in a romantic capacity.

Combeferre knocked on the door and was greeted by a butler. He introduced himself and Éponine as Marius Pontmercy' friends. Though Éponine was certain she did not look the part of someone who could be acquainted with the master of the house, _Monsieur_ Combeferre had a splendid _bourgeois_ air, so she was relieved when the butler kept his attention on him and did not quite acknowledge her. Combeferre asked the other man whether _Monsieur_ Marius had come around.

To Combeferre's surprise, the butler conveyed that _Monsieur_ Marius had indeed arrived this morning in a coach. The young master was unconscious and quite injured, so his master, _Monsieur_ Gillenormand, had had a physician brought around. The young master was now resting. In fact, he had not risen all day, so if the visitors could perhaps leave their details?

Combeferre and Éponine were incredibly joyous to hear the news. There was light at the end of this tragedy after all. Marius was alive!

Combeferre handed a card with his name and address to the butler, saying that he would try again tomorrow evening, lest the master could send word of an alternative time to visit.

The butler only nodded, saying that Master Marius also had another visitor earlier, a one _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent, who was requesting permission for his daughter to visit. The butler would place _Monsieur_ Combeferre's card with the other gentleman's. He then turned towards Éponine asking if she too would leave her details.

Éponine felt too lost for word, both out of embarrassment and upon hearing about _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent.

Did Cosette and her father not leave for England after all?

Thankfully, _Monsieur_ Combeferre intercepted the matter, saying that the young lady was under his care as a physician and that she could be reached at the same address.

Once outside, Combeferre turned to Éponine with a wide smile. "It seems that our prayers have been answered, Éponine! You will be able to see Marius tomorrow."

The girl, however, did not look overjoyed. "I do not think I will, _Monsieur_. I cannot visit him in that grand house. I do not look the part. And his Cosette will be there. I do not think Marius will care to see me when he is beside his beloved."

"That is nonsense, Éponine. You sacrificed yourself to save his life. That is not something one dismisses lightly. And I do not know Marius to be ungrateful."

"Perhaps..."

"Now come on, Éponine. You have had enough excitement for one night. You need much more rest to recover from your injuries."

"_Monsieur_... I am very grateful for what you said in front of my father today, but perhaps I should return home. I am indebted to you enough as it is. I have not said thank you earlier for fixing my wounds and saving my life. As I told _Monsieur_ Enjolras as well, I will pay this debt back to you one day."

"Then pay it now by coming back with me to Joly's place. I meant every word that I said to your father. I do not believe he will provide you with an environment where you may recover from your injuries. As a physician — well, a future physician, to be precise — I have a responsibility to see you restored to health, so I cannot in good conscience let you return to him."

Éponine felt bewildered. She was not used to receiving such kindness from a virtual stranger. She supposed he was not really a stranger... It was no wonder Marius was friends with these gentlemen. They were very kind.

"If that is your wish, _Monsieur_."

The pair returned to Joly's residence to see a surgeon — with Joly's aid — tending to Enjolras' fractures. It seemed to be quite a painful process for the patient and strenuous for all those involved, so Combeferre made them pause for a while to convey the news about Marius. Joly reacted with a great whoop of joy while Enjolras showed a genuine smile amidst the pain.

Musichetta expected to see Éponine brightening with happiness, but instead spied the younger girl going into the parlour and sitting down without much energy. When asked, Éponine just said that her wounds were hurting more than they had been all day and that she was tired. Musichetta gave her something for the pain — after she had pulled Joly aside for the prescription — and left her to rest on a sofa.

It was very late when the surgeon was finally finished with Enjolras' procedure. They had moved him very carefully to the divan in the lounge so that he could be more comfortable. The surgeon advised that the casts needed time to dry, so they decided to delay moving Enjolras to Combeferre's dwelling until the following night. Éponine had fallen asleep curled up on the couch, so Combeferre would also leave her there tonight to rest. He filled Enjolras and Joly in on their encounter with her father this afternoon.

Joly told Enjolras and Combeferre that in his trip to fetch the surgeon, he heard word that the hospitals were looking for volunteer medical students to do post-mortem care on the victims of the barricades. They were possibly looking to separate those corpses with families — soldiers, students, workers — from those who could be sold to the medical schools as cadavers. It was decided then that in the morning, Joly and Combeferre would volunteer their services in an attempt to recover their friends' bodies and possibly discover the fate of Lesgle, who had also not come home to his apartment.

Enjolras personally thought that Lesgle was dead, given his friend's notorious bad luck, though he would be sure not to mention that in the letter to Lesgle's family.

He could barely sleep that night, partially from the pain, but also from trying to compose in his head all the letters that he would have to write to the families of his departed friends.

* * *

Éponine awoke to find _Monsieur_ Enjolras looking at her. She was startled and felt like he was staring right inside her head, seeing what she just dreamed. She was not quite sure why she had to be embarrassed by that though.

"Good morning, _Monsieur_," she said unsteadily, as she sat up and stretched her aching muscles. She was a bit too tall to be curled up on the sofa all night, but it was still a more comfortable sleep than any that she'd had in many years.

"Good morning, Éponine."

"Has _Monsieur_ Joly left?"

"Yes, it is just the two of us here."

_And it would be so for the whole day_, Éponine thought, as Musichetta told her last night that she must return to work and would not be able to come by until the evening. At the time, Éponine did not think much of it, as she was too preoccupied with Marius, but now that the reality was here, that she would have to spend the whole day with the revolutionary leader, she felt a bit nervous. What would she say to him? She supposed she should just focus on helping him with tasks that needed done, considering he could hardly move.

"Do you need me to do anything for you, _Monsieur_?"

Enjolras looked torn then and... almost seemed embarrassed?

"Well, yes, there is something…"

"Yes?" He definitely appeared embarrassed, thought Éponine.

"Forgive me, Éponine... This is quite ludicrous... But I have had this itch on my face for the past several minutes. Do you think you could—?"

"Of course!" Éponine wanted to laugh. The image of the man as a perfect marble statue had started to further crumble in her mind. He might appear as such to those who only saw him during his speeches, but behind closed doors, he certainly acted human.

She made her way over and sat down facing him on the divan.

"Where is it, _Monsieur_?"

"It's on my right cheek, right below the eye, and up towards the temple."

Éponine felt glad that her nails were clean for once, having been scrubbed by Musichetta yesterday. It would not do for her dirt-filled fingers to be applied to a nobleman's face. She could not help smiling as she started scratching the area that he indicated. She imagined they would have looked quite peculiar, her sitting there scratching his face. She tried to be as gentle as she could, as she did not want to blemish the perfect pale skin.

Enjolras felt utter relieve. It was such an asinine distraction, but he had not been able to concentrate on anything else when the itch came. Just imagine; Revolutionary leader Enjolras being defeated by an itch he could not scratch!

But he supposed that was the reality that he had to face for a while now, was it not? He had never fully appreciated the freedom that his physical fitness brought him until now.

"I was looking at you thinking whether I should wake you, but then I thought this was such an absurd request, but before I could decide on what to do, you awoke anyway."

"Do not worry. It is not so absurd, _Monsieur_. We all have itches that need scratching." Éponine replied with mirth in her eyes.

"Yes, that is true."

"Musichetta had done well with washing your hair," said Éponine as her hand went up to the skin on his temple, near the hair. "And I am quite relieved that my hand is clean for once. Believe me, you would not want me touching your face with hands I had on the street."

"Yes..." Enjolras was feeling a bit unnerved by having the girl so close in his line of vision, especially as she was just chattering away, making odd conversation. "I think that is enough for now, Éponine. Thank you."

She pulled her hand back, but did not move from where she sat next to him. "Is there anything else, _Monsieur_? Have you eaten?"

"No, Joly did not have time this morning."

"I shall fix you something then. I am not a very good cook though, so do not expect very much."

Éponine busied herself in the kitchen, seeing what _Monsieur_ Joly had. It had been quite a while since she had done this.

She came back to the parlour some time later carrying a steaming bowl and a glass of water. She sat back down on the divan next to Enjolras.

"Here, I shall help you eat."

"Thank you." Enjolras looked at the bowl of what he supposed was porridge. It did not look very appetizing, but he would not be ungrateful, especially as the girl looked like she had made her utmost effort. Her hair looked slightly askew, as if she had been mussing it up in frustration, and her face showed fresh perspiration, possibly from standing over the stove.

Plus, it was not as if he was spoiled for choice...

Éponine scooped a spoonful of gruel and blew on it, so that it would not burn the _Monsieur_'s tongue. She gently brought the spoon to his mouth.

Enjolras tasted the food and was a bit thrown by the flavor. It was not terrible, but it was almost as if the girl had confused the salt and the sugar.

"How is it? Is it terrible? In my rush, I had not tasted it myself."

She was looking so hopeful that he did not have the heart to be honest, "No, it is fine, Éponine. I think you are underestimating your cooking abilities."

She beamed at him and continued to feed him very carefully. Unlike before, she was not chattering, being quite focused on blowing the spoonfuls of porridge until she was certain it was not too hot.

"How is your hand?" Enjolras asked, indicating her bandaged right hand, which was gingerly supporting the bowl.

"It is much better, _Monsieur_. It was pulsing with pain last night, but whatever Musichetta gave me had numbed the pain and helped me to sleep. How was your sleep?"

"To be honest, I had a restless sleep, Éponine."

"Is it your injuries? I am afraid neither _Monsieur_ Joly nor Musichetta had left me with any instructions on what I may give you for pain."

"No, it is not that... I have... a lot of thoughts."

"About your friends?"

"Yes."

"I am afraid I cannot help you with that, _Monsieur_." Éponine said sadly. They had finally finished with breakfast. She helped him to drink some water and then got up to take the dirty dishes to the kitchen. "I think I will do a little bit of cleaning today. Do you think _Monsieur_ Joly would mind?"

"No, I do not think so."

"What will you do, _Monsieur_?"

"I do not know, Éponine... Think, maybe. I need to think."

Éponine doubted whether that was such a grand plan, given that he had just had trouble sleeping due to his thoughts, but she supposed there was not much else he could do at the moment.

Éponine was looking at him rather oddly, so he added in explanation, "I need to compose in my mind what I would write to the families of my friends."

Éponine just nodded sympathetically. "Well, I will leave you to it then, but please let me know if you need anything from me."

"I will, Éponine. Thank you for breakfast."

So that was how they spent the day. Éponine was relieved that there was a bit of housework to do to keep her mind occupied. She needed to distract herself from thinking about Marius and what she would do tonight. Should she come with _Monsieur_ Combeferre to visit him?

By the afternoon though, Éponine had run out of things to do. She had no choice but to think about Marius. She went into the lounge and slumped down on the sofa. She and _Monsieur_ Enjolras had not exchanged words since midday, when she had thought to prepare him some luncheon. Enjolras thought that the food tasted not much better than breakfast, but he really was quite thankful for the distraction.

And he was quite grateful for her being there now, as he could not take being alone with his thoughts for one more second.

"Are you all right, Éponine?"

"Yes, I am fine, _Monsieur_. I am just thinking of what I should do about tonight."

_Tonight? Oh... Marius_, thought Enjolras.

"Oh yes, Combeferre told me that the two of you and perhaps Joly might go visit Marius this evening?"

"Yes... Except I am not certain that I should go."

Enjolras was perplexed. "Why not?"

Éponine looked at him, considering whether she should share it with him. A man with significant concerns such as he might think of her worries as trivial. However, he did ask and she had no one else with which to discuss it.

"Well... I think Cosette will be there."

Enjolras blinked. Even he knew that Marius was in love with this Cosette girl. And from Éponine's act of sacrifice at the barricade, he supposed it was quite obvious that she held some great passion for Pontmercy. As to what advice he could give her, he was at a lost. Matters of love were certainly nowhere near his area of expertise. Perhaps he could approach it from a logical angle...

"Surely he will want to see you, Éponine, regardless of _Mademoiselle_ Cosette. You took a bullet to save his life. If you are uncomfortable about speaking with him in front of her, I am sure Marius will have enough sensitivity to arrange to speak with you privately."

"Yes… _Monsieur_ Combeferre said something similar."

_Combeferre and I are certainly on the same wavelength_, thought Enjolras.

"But that is not all, _Monsieur_... He is staying with his grandfather at this grand old house. And I have heard Marius say that the man has very traditional views..."

"So you do not think that you will be welcomed there."

Now they were on more familiar grounds, thought Enjolras. He certainly had an opinion on the class system and the inequalities embedded therein.

"Éponine, you are as much a citizeness of this country as anyone in that 'grand old house' — as you say — is a citizen. You are a friend of the master of the house. In fact, you saved his life! Do not let anyone allow you to think that you are not welcomed there."

Éponine could tell that _Monsieur_ Enjolras had much passion for the subject and that he truly meant his words. But it was easy for him to say when he had been born in nobility and would be welcomed in any home. She wondered if she should tell him this. It seemed rude, but she did not know any other way to make him see it from her perspective.

"I understand what you are saying, _Monsieur_, but… You do not know what it is like to be poor," she started carefully. "I was not always this way, you know. My family used to own an inn and I in fact had a pampered childhood. But perhaps that is what makes my situation more difficult, in a way... I have a pride still and I do not think I can take it if I were turned away from Marius' home."

Enjolras thought that if he were able to come tonight, he would ensure that the girl would be able to see Marius, regardless of what anyone in that house thought, but as he was not... "Éponine, I am certain that Combeferre — and Joly, if he comes too — would vouch for your presence, but if you are still uncomfortable... Perhaps we could ask Marius to come to you. I shall like to see him too, and seeing as I cannot leave the house, I will ask that he visit the both of us."

Éponine was stunned. That was actually not a bad plan. "You would do that for me?"

"Yes. And I will suggest that he not bring Cosette along." Enjolras added with almost a hint of twinkle in his eyes. "It would not do for his beloved to see him consorting with a wanted man after all."

"Thank you, _Monsieur_." Éponine was at a lost for words. Who would have thought that the great revolutionary leader Enjolras — the so-called "marble statute" — would be helping _her_ — a mere street urchin — with the trivialities of her personal life?

"Do not think much of it. But could you do me one more favor, Éponine?"

"Of course, _Monsieur_."

"Could you please stop calling me '_Monsieur'_? You may think that I am from a higher station than you, but like I said, I consider us to be equal citizens of France, so I would prefer if you simply call me 'Enjolras'."

Éponine stared at him in amazement, "As you wish... Enjolras."

The name felt foreign in her tongue. She would certainly need some time to get used to it.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** There you have it, some more Éponine/Enjolras! There is some lighthearted stuff here, so hopefully it was not too out of place. You might be able to see where I'm going with this ;-).

While I was writing this, I thought, 'Oops, I'm writing a bit of Combeferre/Éponine,' but fret not, their relationship is more… platonic, I suppose. It is not quite friendship yet, but definitely not romantic. Still, as I was just talking about Killian Donnelly/Samantha Barks with **backfromthedead91**, I hope you enjoyed this little bit!

After reading everyone's response to my timeline questions in Chapter 1, I decided to go with the version that JVJ sends Marius on a coach to his grandfather's place, so the boy would not realize who had saved him. I may also have accelerated the timeline of when JVJ contacts Marius for Cosette, but I thought he might want to confirm that Marius had indeed survived and ensured that Cosette would be able to see him straight away. I mean, Javert didn't come for him, but JVJ didn't know about the suicide (there was still a chance Javert might come back), so he might have felt that he needed to reunite Cosette and Marius swiftly.

Thanks again to **HLK** for saying that you liked the bit with Joly crying about everything. I thought someone has to (since Marius won't really be doing "Empty Chairs, Empty Tables" in this fic) and I thought, 'Why not Joly?' Maybe he's generally happy because he's honest with his emotions.

**Question for my readers:** What are the family situations of Courfeyrac, Prouvaire, Grantaire, Feuilly, Bahorel, and Lesgle? Who has a rich family/not from Paris/any other specific things I should know? I think besides Feuilly being an orphan, I can't figure out anything much about their backgrounds.

Let me know of your thoughts by reviewing or follow/favorite! Thanks!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **Les Misérables and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary: **One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras. Also features one-sided Marius/Éponine and Enjolras/Grantaire (E/R), as well as Joly/Musichetta/Bahorel, which are all canon anyway.

**Author's Notes: **Thanks again for all the kind reviews/follows/favorites! See how they motivated me to write and update quickly? :-)

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Combeferre and Joly returned that evening with news that they had found all of their friends' bodies, including Lesgle, who was apparently killed when the barricade exploded.

Enjolras felt grim, but at least now he knew.

Combeferre and Joly had taken care to ensure that the bodies would be preserved, but they would need to send the letters as soon as possible, so that the families could respond promptly.

As such, Joly decided to forego visiting Marius and stay home to take Enjolras' dictation for the letters, which the leader had been composing in his mind all day.

Combeferre was about to fetch Éponine, who was helping Musichetta prepare dinner, to come with him to 6 _Rue des Filles du Calvaire_, when Enjolras stopped him and told him of the plan to request Marius to come visit them.

Combeferre was rather surprised that his leader had come up with this idea — and for the sake of a girl's feelings no less — but he saw the logic.

He and Joly told Enjolras that they had also claimed Gavroche's body, as they thought it proper that they paid for his funeral. Enjolras said that he would write the eulogy, as he was present during the boy's last moments and would work with Éponine to see if she wanted to add anything more.

Combeferre asked Éponine to come join them in the parlour to tell her this news.

Éponine expressed gratitude for the gentlemen's kindness towards her brother and internally considered whether she should let her parents know of the arrangements.

No… No, they probably would not have cared.

Combeferre then asked if there was anything she would like him to relay to Marius tonight. Éponine supposed _Mons_—No, _Enjolras_ had told him of the plan. She was not quite sure yet what she wanted to say to Marius.

"Perhaps just tell him, _Monsieur_, that I am very relieved that he has escaped from harm and that I will pray for his quick recovery," said Éponine.

Combeferre nodded at that and set off into the night.

Enjolras and Joly got to work straight away. They both tried to focus on the words — as Enjolras dictated and Joly wrote — and not so much on the meaning behind them, so as to not fall into a deep despair whenever a memory of their friends came unbidden.

Still, it was emotionally-draining work and both were quite happy for a break when Musichetta and Éponine interrupted them to serve dinner. Joly was surprised to see that Enjolras looked rather nonplussed when Éponine came to sit next to him without so much as a discussion and proceeded to help him eat.

Musichetta also noticed it, but took the opportunity to speak with Joly privately about the funeral plans for Bahorel.

"How fares the letter-writing?" asked Éponine.

"It is progressing, but it is not easy work."

"No, I imagine it would not be."

Enjolras seemed especially distracted, his eyes focusing on a spot in the far wall.

"You look bothered... Enjolras."

It was the use of his name that snapped his attention back to her. She sounded so unsure, as if she was not certain she was saying it correctly.

"Nothing to worry yourself over, Éponine," he said kindly. "Joly wants me to re-write one of the letters."

"Oh."

"It is the one for… Grantaire. Did you know him?"

"No, I do not believe so."

"He was the one constantly drunk. You would have remembered him if you've met him."

"I suppose you cannot write that on a letter to his family," Éponine said carefully. "That he was constantly drunk."

"No… No, I cannot… Joly thinks the letter needs to be better… But do not trouble yourself over the matter, Éponine. I will mull it over and come up with a way to fix it."

"Well, I do not know much about letter-writing, but I do know a thing or two about drunkards... I have not been a stranger to the bottle myself, if I am to be honest, Enjolras... So what I can tell you about drunks is that they drink because they wish to escape something in their lives."

They finished the rest of his meal in silence, Éponine leaving him to his thoughts, hoping that what she said could somehow assist him to write about his friend Grantaire.

When Combeferre returned late in the evening, Enjolras and Joly had finished with all the letters, though Joly still thought Enjolras needed to take the night to re-think the one for Grantaire.

Combeferre read all of them and agreed with Joly, knowing that his leader needed to confront his feelings and be more honest about what Grantaire did for him. However, neither Combeferre nor Joly could help him if he was unwilling to talk to them about it. They agreed that if Enjolras still had not changed his mind by tomorrow, they would send the letter as it stood.

Combeferre told the group that the visit with Marius went well. He looked naturally weakened by his injuries, but appeared to be in good spirits. It seemed that he survived because someone took him away from the barricade and returned him to his grandfather. He had no clue as to who it could be, as the last thing he remembered was being outside the café as the soldiers charged.

He was particularly broken up to hear the news of their friends, particularly Courfeyrac, who was Marius' closest friend in the group. He would also send a letter to Courfeyrac's family once Enjolras had sent his notice. He said that he would share any funeral expenses, if needed be, and help in any way that he could.

Combeferre glanced towards Éponine in sympathy before relaying the next part; that Marius was overjoyed to hear that Cosette and her father were not departing for England after all. He said he had not seen them yet, but had sent a message for them to come visit at week's end, so that he would have enough time to recover his health and grief for their friends.

Finally, Marius was also very happy to hear that both Éponine and Enjolras had survived. Once he had regained his strength to travel, he would certainly come visit them at Combeferre's residence.

Speaking of which… Combeferre told them that he had borrowed a private coach from Marius to help transport Enjolras and Éponine to his house tonight. It would be more discreet than hiring a fiacre, after all.

Éponine was about to ask whether he was certain that he wanted her to come when Combeferre told her that Marius had promised to visit her there, so she would need to be there when he came. Besides, and he told her this in a softer voice, he would need someone to help Enjolras around.

Around an hour later, the group arrived at Combeferre's place, which was indeed more spacious than Joly's and contained two bedrooms. Upon realizing this, Éponine insisted that Enjolras take the spare bedroom, as she had lighter injuries than he (and should leave Combeferre's care first) and barely any possessions, apart from the bundle of clothes that Musichetta handed to her as she hugged her farewell earlier. The _grisette_ had promised to visit — or Éponine was free to call on her — in the evenings after work.

Enjolras was about to argue out of gallantry, but Éponine said that this was her condition for staying. She was perfectly happy to make a bed in the living room, where_ Monsieur_ Combeferre had a particularly comfortable-looking sofa.

Combeferre gave this some thought and told Enjolras that it might not be a bad idea for him to stay out of sight in the spare bedroom in case visitors come calling, especially since they would not be able to move him very easily in a short notice.

With the sleeping arrangements settled, the three turned in for the night. Enjolras ended up having another restless sleep, as his mind was filled with thoughts of Grantaire.

* * *

The next day Éponine woke up to see _Monsieur_ Combeferre bustling around in the kitchen. He had had a few errands to run, he said, including returning to his classes at the medical school with Joly, as they needed to keep the appearance of normality. They would also try to re-establish contacts with some of the other student societies that survived the barricades, though he did not tell Éponine this last part.

He re-checked her wounds and re-applied the dressings as needed, asking if she would be fine with looking after Enjolras by herself for another day. He would leave some medicine for her and Enjolras' pains, if needed, and some money if she wanted to purchase some food items.

With that, Combeferre departed and Éponine was left alone with Enjolras for the second consecutive day. She found herself feeling less nervous than the day before.

She went to the spare room and saw him staring out the window. It was a sunny day outside and she would not blame him if he wanted to be out there.

"Good morning, Enjolras. I hope you have had a better sleep than the night before?"

He turned towards her, "Good morning, Éponine. Not quite, unfortunately. I could not sleep until very late."

"More thoughts?" She approached him and sat down at the edge of the bed. From up close, she could see that he indeed looked very tired. He had a pale countenance and there were shadows under his eyes.

"Yes. It seems that thoughts are all I have at the moment, Éponine."

"Well... Perhaps you should unburden yourself to someone." She hesitated before she said the next part, "For instance, you really helped me yesterday when I talked about Marius... I realize that my concerns are small when compared to what I imagine yours would be, so I do not necessarily mean for you to discuss them with me. However... If you do think it proper to share your thoughts with me, then I will try my hardest to help you."

Enjolras looked at the girl with amazement.

Could he? Should he?

But before he could say anything, she stood up and said with a smile, "Now I think I will try to fix you a better breakfast than what I accomplished yesterday. I assume you have not had food?"

Enjolras shook his head.

She looked at him very seriously and said, "I too ate the porridge I made you. You were very kind not to have said something, Enjolras, but it really tasted terrible. Do not fret though. I will be sure to taste whatever I make today quite thoroughly before I serve it to you."

Enjolras watched the girl disappear to the kitchen with a sense of puzzlement. She really was a strange one.

She returned a little while later looking as frazzled as she did yesterday. It seemed that cooking was not her forte, thought Enjolras.

He looked apprehensively at what she had brought. It appeared to be a simple version of _Oeufs en Cocotte_, which he actually quite liked, but it did not look like the eggs and the cheese had settled correctly, as the whole thing looked rather glutinous, rather than creamy. Still, his stomach growled at the smell.

"I have tasted this and based on what I remember from childhood, I think this is how it is meant to taste," announced Éponine.

Enjolras was surprised to find that despite appearance, the food actually tasted quite delicious. And he said so to Éponine, hoping he sounded genuine.

It seemed to please the girl enough as she started chattering randomly, "I cannot recall the last time I had eggs, Enjolras. But _Monsieur_ Combeferre has plenty in stock, so I hope he does not mind me using some. Perhaps later today, I shall go out to the butchery and purchase some meat for your luncheon. If I had not had eggs for months, I would hazard to guess, I possibly had not had meat — real good meat — in years. Oh, I have missed it very much..."

Enjolras looked at Éponine with sadness. He oftentimes missed meals because he was too preoccupied with his cause; she missed meals because she could not afford them.

Combeferre had told him of her father and the livelihood that he inferred was forced upon her by the man. He could only imagine what else this girl had been through in her young life. If Enjolras ever needed a reminder of why he must continue the fight for the poor and against the inequalities that plagued them, he would recall the image of this girl...

... Who incidentally so very nearly became the first victim of the barricade.

... Whom he would not have gotten to know had she died there.

... Whose miserable life, he thought, had pushed her to sacrifice her life for a _bourgeois_ boy.

_Sacrifice_.

And there it was. It would have been a 'eureka' moment for Enjolras, had it not been so sad.

If anyone were able to shed a light on sacrifice, it would be Éponine.

He gazed at her wondering whether he should raise the subject.

Éponine sensed him staring and suddenly felt self-conscious. She was quite relieved that they had finished with the meal, so she busied herself with the used utensils and left to return to the kitchen.

She ate her breakfast slowly, feeling actually quite impressed with herself at the food that she'd made. She then did a bit of tidying up, but _Monsieur_ Combeferre's residence was already quite spotless compared to _Monsieur_ Joly's, so there was not much to do. She wondered whether she should go to the butchery now. Perhaps she should check with Enjolras...

She peered at him from the doorway. "Enjolras?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think you will need anything from me in the next hour? If not, I might go out and buy some food."

"No, I do not need anything…" She started to turn around, so he called out to her, "Éponine?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think you might be able to delay your trip? I do not mind if we have a late luncheon."

"Of course," she walked in slowly, unsure of what he wanted.

"Would you mind sitting down?"

She pulled up a chair, for some reason thinking she should not be sitting on the bed like she had this morning.

"Éponine… I have thought about your offer and I think you may be able to help me after all."

She was quite surprised. "You do?"

"Yes. However, I should warn you that this may be quite upsetting, so please forgive me in advance."

Éponine was now very curious, "Do not worry about me. I am tougher than I look."

"Very well... Éponine, may I ask… Why did you take that bullet for Marius?" He appeared like he had to force himself to ask the question.

Éponine felt her eyed widen. This was the last thing she could imagine he would ask.

"I realize I am overstepping my boundaries and I apologize," he continued. "But I need to make sense of something that Grantaire did for me."

She had not broken down in anguish or marched away in anger, so he took it as his cue to proceed.

"Éponine, do you know how I came to be saved from the barricade?"

"I just assumed _Messieurs_ Combeferre and Joly managed to get you out somehow. Beyond that, I did not wish to pry."

"Yes... I would not have been saved had they not come, but when they arrived, I was trapped and ready to die."

Enjolras spoke slowly, as if trying to find the right phrasing. He appeared a little unlike himself, as he sounded so unsure of what he was saying. This was a man who chose his words carefully and normally had full conviction behind each one. Still, Éponine was transfixed.

"I was not alone though. Grantaire was with me. He had come out of a drunken stupor, perhaps, and for some reason, instead of saving himself and running away, he came to join me to die. Éponine, this was a man who had constantly frustrated me with his cynicism, scoffed at the ideals for which I fought, and claimed often that he believed in nothing."

Éponine watched as his face darkened. She began to feel that she knew where this story was going. She felt her heart beating faster.

"But that is not what has been confounding me all this time, why I have not been able to sleep… You see, as they were about to shoot us, Combeferre and Joly arrived at the scene, sufficiently distracting the soldiers. Before I realized what was about to occur, Grantaire… pushed me behind him and out the window… while he placed himself in the full line of fire."

The air was filled with a tense silence, as Éponine let the full implication of his words sank in.

"Oh, Enjolras…" She took his hand gingerly with her uninjured one. She did not think about whether it was appropriate, but more that it was the right thing to do.

He did not look like he was about to cry, like he did on that first day, but rather more confounded and utterly lost, as if his mind had failed to comprehend the matter.

"Why did he do that, Éponine? Why sacrifice himself for a cause he did not believe in?"

"That is why you asked me about Marius."

"Yes. I realize it is quite unorthodox and highly insensitive of me, but I need to understand why one would take a bullet for another person."

Éponine thought the answer was quite obvious, but she felt she needed to be gentle with Enjolras. "I think… And if I may please beg your indulgence for my words, as I am not as well-spoken as you and may say the wrong thing… I think you are approaching this from the head, which cannot make sense of it all, because to understand an irrational act such as taking a bullet for another person, you will need to consider it from the heart."

Enjolras was looking at her as though she was speaking a foreign language, but she pushed on, "As to why I sacrificed my life for Marius, it is simple… I love him."

Enjolras understood that part, but he could not bear to ask what he had been thinking, because it really would be too cruel. However, he was about to discover that he needed not to.

"And I know that he loves Cosette and was not even aware of my feelings, but I simply did not wish to live without him. If he were to die at the barricade, then I wanted to die before him."

Éponine could not believe that she was pouring her whole melodramatic soul out at Enjolras, out of all people, but he needed to hear this if she were to help him.

"I did not know _Monsieur_ Grantaire…" Éponine began tentatively, "So forgive me if I am speaking out of ignorance, but from what you told me, it seemed that he did die for something he believed in… Or rather perhaps for someone he loved…"

"You think he loved me."

"Yes… You described him as being careless about the world, yet he remained in the barricade all night. He could have abandoned it at any time, but he stayed to die with you. And when he saw a chance to save you, even at the price of his own life, he took it."

Understanding dawned on him. "It was precisely what you did for Marius."

Éponine nodded sadly.

Enjolras felt almost overwhelmed by the thought. How had he not realized this? Had he not? Did he know but refuse to acknowledge it?

"Do you think…" He began shakily, "Do you think he loved me… in a romantic sense?"

"I do not know, Enjolras… Do you… I mean…" It was now Éponine who was struggling to phrase the question, "Would it have mattered to you if he did?"

"No… It would not have bothered me concerning what it meant for his romantic preferences… But more so because… I would not have been able to reciprocate. And it was not strictly because he is a man... I am indifferent to all kinds of romantic pursuits."

Éponine had never heard anything more bizarre, but somehow did not find it so strange coming from him. She could not resist asking the next question though.

"For always? You intend to be indifferent to romance all your life?"

"Yes, I am committed to _Patria_ — that is, to France the fatherland — and to freedom, equality, and justice for its citizens. Anything else is a distraction I cannot afford."

"I do not know how you plan to keep your heart closed forever, Enjolras, when love strikes at random without you having much say in the matter. Look at me. If given a choice, perhaps I would not have chosen the heartbreak that comes with falling in love with Marius." But would she have preferred a life without romance over it? Éponine could not say.

"So you think that Grantaire would not have had a choice in loving me?"

"Yes, and he must have understood that you could not feel the same way."

Something just occurred to Enjolras. "Éponine, regarding what you said about drunkards… Do you think that was why he was drinking heavily? Because he wanted to escape his feelings for me?"

"I cannot say, Enjolras. Perhaps…"

"And he sacrificed his life because you think that he would not have wanted to live without me."

"That was my motivation to die for Marius. I would not know for sure _Monsieur_ Grantaire's reasons."

"Then I have killed him. I was the reason he died. I drove him to death." Enjolras felt quite frustrated. There was nothing that he discovered in this discussion that would assuage his guilt; nothing that would help him write that letter properly.

Éponine's eyes widened in shock. Was this how her act of sacrifice felt for Marius?

"No…" she began. "No, do not think of it that way. Perhaps… He did die for you. But not because he wanted you to be haunted by guilt for the rest of your life… More because… He wanted you to continue on to do what you love." Éponine felt that when she started this line of thought, she was making it up as she went, but she now grew certain that she was correct, "He knew that all you wanted was to keep fighting for your cause. And it is a noble cause too, so even if he did not believe in it, he believed in you… Do not think of his death as a burden on your soul, Enjolras, but more like a gift."

Enjolras pondered over her words. She made some very valid points. Still, how would he go about finding the right words to convey to Grantaire's family?

Seemingly to have read his mind, Éponine said kindly, "I am not surprised you are having difficulties writing _Monsieur_ Grantaire's letter."

"What should I say, Éponine?"

"How do you truly feel about it?" Éponine could not believe she was asking him this question when not two days ago she doubted whether he was capable of any complex emotions.

Enjolras could hardly believe that he was about to confide in the girl, "I feel... guilt, mostly. I feel responsible for all of them, do not doubt that, but with Grantaire, it is almost... a direct exchange of lives. He died so that I live. I feel guilt because I was not apprised of his feelings and because I did not treat him well, as I thought he was a mere drunkard who was wasting his life away. And I feel guilt for surviving, when they all died, when I too was ready to die. But I also feel gratitude for living still, grateful to Grantaire, and also to Combeferre, and Joly, for saving my life... And I admire Grantaire's courage, for staying when he could have left and standing by me when I was about to die."

"Then, perhaps... That is what you should write, Enjolras. Precisely what you just said."

Enjolras nodded, the words indeed starting to form in his brain.

Éponine watched him get lost in his thoughts and decided to leave him to it. It had been undoubtedly the strangest conversation she'd had in her life.

As he noticed her starting to get up, Enjolras said, "There is one more thing I feel for Grantaire... Though I do not reciprocate his feelings — romantic or otherwise — I will be indebted to him for the rest of my life. He will occupy a distinct place in my memories, I suppose is what I am trying to say, because I owe my life to him. I think you should know that, Éponine... However it works out with Marius."

Éponine thought she understood what he was trying to say and appreciated it. Perhaps one day she would be able to simply accept that and think about Marius and Cosette without pain. For the moment though, she could not help but feel that her physical wounds would heal before her broken heart.

"Thank you, Éponine," said Enjolras offering her a small smile. "You have been most helpful."

She returned the smile, "You are welcome, Enjolras."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Good lord, this was the most difficult chapter to write... And one I'm most terrified to post, since it focused on Enjolras/Grantaire, which many people really love.

But I have wanted Enjolras and Éponine to have this conversation ever since I came up with the concept for this story, so hopefully you have found it okay. Just to let you know that I'm utterly fascinated by the subject of sacrifice (My favorite movie ever is _Sunshine,_ directed by Danny Boyle — If you've seen it, you know what I mean).

Thank you again for all the great reviews :-). **tinmiss1939**, I'm very pleased you found my medical descriptions quite accurate, especially since you're in the field. And **LeMadeleine**, I'm flattered that you've considered this fic in your top 3 despite being only a few chapters long. I hope I can keep it up! Even the one reviewer who was not happy that I haven't read the book or seen the plays thought the fic is mindblowing, so I'll take it!

My message for the book/play purists out there is that I truly appreciate your concern, which is why I'm trying to show my respect for the material by doing my best to research the canons. However, I will let you know that I did not grow up in a western culture where _Les Mis_ is part of the school syllabus and I haven't lived in a city where the play has been shown, so I do not apologize for the movie being my first exposure to the story. If you think I need to have read the book before I attempt a fic, then you may have to wait a few months for an update because I cannot read that fast. I have now seen videos of some play performances and downloaded the audio, but I will not be able to physically see it live anytime soon, so the film remains my best source currently.

Also bear in mind that this fic is AU, as there is no canon per se for Enjolras, Éponine, Combeferre, and Joly beyond the barricade, so I am doing my best to be true to their characters. If you think there is something specific that I've missed or jarring with their characterizations, that is what the review/PM function is for :-).

Anyway, soapbox off! Hopefully you will continue to read and review/follow/favorite, please!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **Les Misérables and all its associated characters do not belong to me. I am also not a French literary/philosophy/history scholar, so bear with me in this chapter (you will know what I mean).

**Summary: **One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras. Also features one-sided Marius/Éponine and Enjolras/Grantaire (E/R), as well as Joly/Musichetta/Bahorel, which are all canon anyway.

**Author's Notes: **_Merci beacoup_ for all the great reviews/follows/favorites! I especially appreciated the positive comments I got regarding the E/R relationship :-). I hope you enjoy this update.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

When Combeferre came back that afternoon, Enjolras promptly asked him to write down the revised letter that he had composed for Grantaire's family.

Combeferre was delightfully impressed by the improvement, glancing at Éponine sitting idly in the living room and wondering whether the girl had something to do with his friend's breakthrough.

Whatever it was, he was relieved to see Enjolras looking somewhat uplifted for the first time since his ordeal, as if he had overcome an impasse.

As Éponine was looking bored, Combeferre asked if she would not mind running out to post Grantaire's letter.

This also gave him some time alone with Enjolras to tell him about how he and Joly went today in their attempt to make contact with the other student societies.

Many of them were indeed lying low, reported Combeferre, as they tried to re-group and re-gain their numbers. The government had been conducting widespread raids to confiscate weapons and had even arrested several people. However, the cause had definitely not died out. Like Enjolras, many of the leaders even thought that the trials would be an excellent pulpit to deliver Republican speeches and garner wider support.

This news certainly lifted Enjolras' spirits. When Éponine came back, she found him and _Monsieur_ Combeferre engaging in an energetic discussion using words that she struggled to understand.

Later, _Monsieur_ Combeferre told her that he had made arrangements for Gavroche's funeral to be tomorrow, if that was all right with her. Though Enjolras would not be able to attend, he had insisted on writing the eulogy, so Éponine went to join him in his room to hear what he had.

The next two days passed by rather quickly for Éponine. She went to her brother's interment with _Messieurs_ Combeferre and Joly, as well as Musichetta. Marius was still unfit to travel and offered his apologies. Though they did not share Gavroche's burial plans with anyone else, Éponine spied her brother's fellow _gamins_ lurking around behind some trees during the service. And afterwards, as she looked back towards the plot, she saw the street children coming out of their hiding and doing their own version of a salute over her brother's grave. She had to smile at that.

Before parting, Éponine made plans to spend the following evening with Musichetta. The gents were going to be over at _Monsieur_ Combeferre's place to discuss the revolution or whatever it was that would get them riled up, so she thought she could use the night to enjoy the company of another woman.

Éponine ended up asking the older girl to help improve her cooking. Before, when she had only herself to feed and certainly no luxury of cooking three hot meals a day, she would not have cared how her food tasted. But now that another person was regularly eating her cuisine, she could not help but feel self-conscious about her skills. She figured Enjolras could only benefit from this lesson.

Musichetta had had to take work home that day, so after dinner, she decided to also teach Éponine how to sew. The conversation inevitably turned towards men, as they sat there with a garment in their laps and a needle in their hands. It was then that Éponine found out about Musichetta's relationships with both _Messieurs_ Joly and Bahorel.

Éponine was astonished at how the girl could have had two men in love with her when she herself could not have even one. However, she could not be envious of Musichetta, as _Monsieur_ Bahorel was killed at the barricade and she was clearly still broken-hearted over it. She and _Monsieur_ Joly were going to attend the funeral tomorrow. She was particularly worried about what his family would think of her and wondered how much they knew about her and _Monsieur_ Joly.

Éponine did not think that she had much to worry about, as Musichetta had a sweet countenance and an easy charm. Éponine wished she could also learn that skill. Men certainly turned their heads when Musichetta walked by. No one had done that for Éponine.

Musichetta then proceeded to turn the subject to Éponine's feelings for Marius. If the man was indeed beyond reach and was thoroughly in love with this Cosette, then Musichetta only had one advice for Éponine, "Life is too short to pine over someone who does not love you back, Éponine. You have been given a second chance at life by surviving the barricade. Find a new love!"

Musichetta's words were swirling in her head as she made her way back to _Monsieur_ Combeferre's home that night.

It was easy for Musichetta to say, as she was beautiful and surrounded by love. But Éponine? There had never been anyone like Marius in her life. He was the only kind presence in her miserable life, the only one who noticed her and treated her well. There would never be anyone as kind as him in her future.

But even as she thought this, she realized that it was not strictly true.

Had she not received so much kindness from Marius' friends and Musichetta since she survived the barricade?

Had they not been as kind as Marius was?

Perhaps...

Perhaps, there was hope for her after all.

Perhaps one day she could find herself loving another.

* * *

Meanwhile, Enjolras found the past several days to be passing at an excruciatingly slow pace. He was growing increasingly restless at being cooped up at home.

He had so far missed the funerals of Gavroche, Feuilly, and Bahorel. Lesgle's was tomorrow and he would miss that too. The families of Courfeyrac, Prouvaire, and Grantaire were coming to claim the bodies and would take them back to their hometowns, so there was no chance that he could come. He promised himself that he would visit every one of their graves once he regained his mobility.

Grantaire's family was particularly appreciative of what he wrote, so he supposed he had Éponine to thank for that. He was apprehensive that they would blame him for his death. Instead, they sent word through Combeferre that they would like to meet him one day and sit down together to discuss their son's memory.

Joly heard news that the authorities were indeed still actively looking for Enjolras, questioning his known associates — including himself and Combeferre — as to his whereabouts, so Combeferre was taking extra care to ensure that his leader remained well-hidden in his house.

Unfortunately, this was made rather more difficult by a recent peculiar incident that occurred...

It appeared that some of the people whom Combeferre and Joly had helped during the night of the barricade had recognized Combeferre in the street and proceeded to follow him home. One night, there was a knock on his door when he was not expecting any guests. Looking at Enjolras in alarm, thinking it might be the police finally catching up to him, Combeferre asked Éponine to keep Enjolras company in his room and to lock the door until he could figure out who it was. As it turned out, it was two people supporting another man who looked to be in a bad state. They were desperate, they said. Their father was ill and they could not afford medical care. Since the _Monsieur_ had so generously helped their brother that night the barricades came down, would he be willing to please examine their father?

Combeferre did not have the heart to turn them away. So he treated the man that night in his living room, doing his best with what he had — he did not have supplies like Joly after all — and asking them to be discreet, as he was not yet a licensed physician. They agreed, thanking Combeferre profusely, especially since the man did not even charge them a _sou_.

Nevertheless, it seemed that word had spread in the street, as the following evening, another two groups appeared on his doorstep, this time a poor couple carrying their sick child and a young prostitute holding up her weak friend. Joly happened to be there as well, visiting with Musichetta, so he decided to assist Combeferre with the treatments. Musichetta and Éponine, who were talking in the living room when the visitors came, had to move their conversation to Enjolras' room.

They came in to see Enjolras sitting on the bed looking foiled. He had been in the middle of a fruitful discussion with Combeferre and Joly on the best way to re-form their secret society when the two were called away.

Musichetta greeted Enjolras politely, while Éponine gave him an apologetic look, realizing that the last thing he wanted was for his revolutionary companions to be replaced by two chattering girls.

The women settled at the far corner of the room, speaking in a low voice, so as to not disturb Enjolras, who was now gazing blankly at the ceiling.

He tried to tune them out, but even so, he could not help overhearing when Musichetta told Éponine that she and Joly had not made love since the events of the barricade. The older girl supposed it was too early since Bahorel's death, but she was starting to feel worried, as Joly was using his rather neurotic tendencies and supposedly shaky health to put it off. Éponine stole an embarrassed glance at Enjolras, who showed a blank face, seemingly not to have heard, his gaze still unwavering from the ceiling.

Enjolras internally groaned. This was worse than when his friends were spouting poetics and other nonsensical words about some girls with whom they happened to be enamored at the time. At least then he could have told them to simper down and turned the conversation back to the cause. He had not been acquainted with these two girls well enough to be able to do the same.

And even when his friends were in a particularly quixotic mood and refused to cease talking about women, he had at least been able to ignore them by delving into his books and scribbling down his thoughts...

He looked at his right hand in irritation. The surgeon who fixed his arm surmised that it would take approximately six weeks for the bone to heal. While he only had minor breaks in his hand, it had to be bound to the arm in the cast, so he had absolutely no way of moving it and no way of using it to write.

The bullet that hit his shoulder had missed hitting any bones, so the wound should heal quicker, meaning he would at least regain the use of his left hand and arm sooner.

As to his leg, because he had fractures in his right thigh and lower leg, he would not be walking for at least three months.

Enjolras felt depressed at the thought. He was someone who had been active his whole life, both in mind and body. If he thought that there was something that needed to be done, he would do them straight away. Any cause that needed action, he would put together a plan and realize it. It was simply who he was... He was never one to sit still and suffer through tedium.

Now though, he could not attend the funerals of his friends, could not regroup with the other revolutionaries, could not leave the house, could not even leave this room, could not feed himself...

This was such a grim reality of survival, he thought, as he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, drowning out the sound of the conversing girls.

* * *

The next day dawned and Éponine was feeling especially melancholy. Marius had still not visited. Though she had resolved to think about him less, she could not help feeling a bit downcast that he had not come calling. He was possibly too preoccupied with Cosette.

It did not help that she had nothing to do. She had finished all her tasks for the day: She had provided Enjolras with his breakfast as well as luncheon, had gone to the market for foodstuffs, had dusted _Monsieur_ Combeferre's house until it was without a speck of dirt… What else could she do? It was too early to prepare dinner and _Monsieur_ Combeferre had no errands for her to run while he was in school.

She went into Enjolras' room to see him looking almost as miserable as she was bored.

He did not appear like he was up for conversation, so she just walked in and sat down on a chair next to the desk. She spied a column of books, each tome haphazardly piled on top of another and gathering dust. It had been a while since she had read something, but she did not use to have the luxury of time to do so... She absently picked up a book from the top, which was written by a fellow named Rousseau, and started reading it.

Enjolras watched what she did with complete astonishment, "You can read?"

Éponine looked affronted, "Of course, I can read! It is so typical of you _bourgeois_ boys to think that because I was on the street, I am just an illiterate peasant. I will have you know—"

"Éponine, Éponine," he interrupted her, trying to be placating. "I am terribly sorry to have offended you. I did not mean it as such. It is just… I am very surprised that you have this skill, because you did not ever read before, when we have so many books in this house."

Enjolras hoped that he was supplicating enough, as the truth was, he really did underestimate her. It did not even figure into his consideration that she was literate.

Éponine was still looking a bit cross and said in a cool tone, "It is because, Enjolras, I am not as interested in books as you are. When you are living in the streets, books are looked upon more as a source of heating than knowledge."

Enjolras thought that she had a point and was even rather witty in her delivery of such point. He could not help but smile at that, as he continued to be conciliatory, "I do apologize, Éponine. I did not wish to insult you... I am actually delighted to discover that you can read."

Éponine was taken aback, "You are?"

"Yes. It has been torturous being trapped in this room with no avenue to occupy my thoughts. I am rather hoping — if you do not object, that is — that you could perhaps then read to me?"

Éponine's feeling of wounded pride was now mixed with self-consciousness. It was one thing to be reading to herself, where she could skip over all the words she did not know; it was quite another to be reading out loud to this highly educated man and from books that are likely to have words she would find impossible to pronounce, let alone understand.

"I don't know, Enjolras. Have you not read all these books before?"

"Yes, I have, but I wish to do so again. One could always learn new things from re-reading a book. Please, Éponine? I promise I will never insult you again."

"I do not think you can promise me that... Especially once you hear my phrasing."

"I promise I will not insult your phrasing."

Éponine looked at the column of books and examined the titles. This would not be easy. But Enjolras did appear as if he was going stir-crazy. And she also needed something to occupy herself, lest she grew mad with thoughts of Marius.

"Very well… Which book would you like?"

"Could you look for one by Condorcet? It is called _Sketch for a Historical Picture of the Progress of the Human Mind_."

He directed her to a specific section from which she could start reading. Éponine looked at the first line and almost gave up. However, Enjolras was looking at her so hopefully that she had no choice but to press on. Her brain was barely taking in the meaning of the words, as she concentrated simply on how the words perhaps _should_ sound.

Enjolras could not help but be distracted by Éponine's articulation. It really was quite atrocious. He would not be able to concentrate on Condorcet's words if he let her continue. But how would he bring it up without hurting her feelings?

"Éponine," he started carefully.

The girl stopped reading and looked at him with a frown.

"Éponine… You are certainly a competent reader, but I wonder… Did you… understand much of what you just read?"

The frown went deeper. If Enjolras was going to insult her intelligence, then perhaps she should just leave him here with his own clever mind for company.

She looked like she wanted to stalk away in a huff, so Enjolras continued hurriedly, "Please do not think I am questioning your brightness. I am simply…" He searched his brain for an approach that would not sound condescending, "I think there is a way we both can benefit from this. That is, if you are willing?"

Éponine stared at him with a chilly expression, "What do you have in mind?" She had closed the book, but he noticed that she still marked the page with a finger.

"Well… I think that if you had a full comprehension of this book — or any of these books, really — you would find it extremely interesting and filled with illuminating ideas. And I am certain that you have enough smarts to understand it once you know what all the sentences mean. I truthfully do not look down on you if currently you are not so familiar with some of the words. Someone also had to teach them to me at one time. So it occurred to me that perhaps... I could be the one to teach them to you if you are interested?"

Éponine looked wary. She did not wish to be humiliated when Enjolras found out the amount of words that she simply did not know.

Seemingly to have read her mind, Enjolras pushed on, "My proposition to you is this: As you read out loud to me and you see a word you do not know, stop and let me know. I will not think less of you even if you have to stop several times in a sentence. I will then try to explain the word to you. You might even…" A thought struck him, "Éponine, since you are able to read, then I shall assume you can write?"

"I can," said Éponine noncommittally. Her penmanship was possibly poorer than her pronunciation.

"Then you might wish to write down the word and the meaning in some sort of a list. I've found it the most effective way to instill concepts into my brain." He looked around for a spare notebook and pointed to one that was sitting on the windowsill. "There, you can have that one. I think it is brand new."

Éponine picked up the notebook and examined its leather-bound cover. It would be the most handsome thing that she owned. It must have been quite expensive, yet Enjolras was gifting it to her without a second thought. She did not think she was one to be buoyed by pretty things and yet she was gradually feeling less apprehensive and more excited about the idea of this lesson.

Enjolras, however, suddenly noticed her bandaged right hand, "Éponine, would you be able to hold a pen with your hand though? Does it hurt still?"

"My hand?" Éponine looked at her wounded hand and then at him with a surprised smile, "Oh, but Enjolras, I am — what is the word? — '_de gauche_'?"

It was Enjolras' turn to smile. She just called herself a 'left-winger', a Republican, which — he supposed — once he was done teaching her, she might indeed become one. "You mean '_gauchère_'? You favor using your left hand?"

"Yes. I learned to write with my left hand. _Maman_ told me to switch, as it is less proper and the ink would smudge all over my hand as I moved across the line, but I just could not do it with my other hand. It is lucky that I didn't! Because it would take me twice as long to do things if it was my left hand I had injured."

It seemed that the girl had ceased being cross with him, as she explained all this quite cheerfully. She did seem to bounce across moods quite rapidly, particularly not dwelling on hurt feelings for too long before returning to a more congenial disposition. He found that he quite liked that about her.

As she seemed to be distracted with flipping through the notebook and feeling the paper, Enjolras asked, "So you will do it then?"

Éponine looked up at him with a relenting smile, "Yes, I suppose I will."

"Excellent. I have a splendid set of pens on the desk there, which you can use, as I shall not be able to write anytime soon."

Éponine nodded, locating the writing instruments, "Did you want to return to this _Monsieur_ Condorcet?" Enjolras was impressed to see that she had thought to leave a bookmark on the page they left off. She turned to it promptly.

"Yes, I think he will be a good start. Which word gave you pause?"

She scanned the page for the right passage, "What does 'sentient' mean? 'Man is a sentient being'?"

"It means being capable of feelings, of having consciousness and perceptions. You realize your existence and that you are alive. And it is what makes you human. Or rather, you are human because you are capable and aware of these sensations."

Éponine looked at him with amusement, "But it is something that I have always known, Enjolras! I realize that I am alive. I just did not know the concept had to be named and be pointed it out to me! This _Monsieur_ Condorcet became a famous writer because he said something that is quite apparent?"

"He was a _Marquis_, actually. Yes, well, sometimes it is the simplest of things that are the most illuminating. How does the line continue?"

"'Man is a sentient being... capable of reasoning and of acquiring moral ideas.'" Éponine was scrunching up her face, trying to process the sentence. "Was the _Marquis_ saying that every man — and shall I assume every woman too? — can think for themselves?"

"Yes, I believe so. Condorcet was actually a great proponent of the equality between the sexes, so yes, he meant every human being, both men and women. So what do you think of that statement, Éponine?"

"I think... that it is again quite obvious that every person can think for themselves... But I think not every person has the luxury to do so?"

Enjolras looked at Éponine in surprise, "Why do you say so?"

"Well… When you are given a choice between starving in the street by yourself or perhaps joining a criminal enterprise in exchange for food in your belly... You will choose food, despite you realizing that it is wrong to burglarize someone's home, for example."

"So you believe that practical, survival matters will always take priority over reason or morality?"

"Yes... I think that is what I am saying."

"That is very interesting, because I believe in the next part Condorcet explains that once all the hindrances have been eliminated— archaic notions that one must submit themselves to the thoughts or will of others, be it the king, the priest, or…" And he glanced at her carefully before continuing, "Or even a parent — then a person can realize that it will only be natural him or her to wish to better themselves."

"How does that relate to what I said?"

"I think you identified a hindrance that are faced by the multitude in this country: They are pushed to starvation and poverty to such an extent that they become too desperate to have a will of their own. What you said is true, Éponine, that they do not have the luxury to think that this is not their natural state, that they actually have a right to more..."

Éponine watched Enjolras, his expression brightening as he spoke of something for which he held a great passion. She thought she should perhaps start writing some of this down, but felt too captivated by his speech.

Enjolras continued, not noticing Éponine staring at him, "Unfortunately, this starvation and poverty are institutionalized by the government; by a royalist system that says that it is natural for a man to rule over all others just because he happened to have been born in a palace. Or by a religious institution that supports the first notion by decreeing that the man who was born in palace is indeed chosen by God to rule over all others, while if you are born a peasant, then God has put you there and it is your duty to serve the man in the palace, and to not seek anything better for yourself."

Éponine was rather startled when he turned to her and said very seriously, "This is why I fight against our current government, Éponine. I have nothing against Louis-Philippe the man, but I oppose a return to the monarchist system and the institutionalized injustices that it entails."

Éponine digested his words, understanding a bit more of the noble cause for which Marius' friends and her brother died. It was indeed quite remarkable… But something still bothered her, "Enjolras… I think I understand your meaning… But even if the government is changed and we have more..." She searched her brain for that word he and his friends often mentioned, "_Égalité_ for everyone, I think you are overestimating people's ability to think. Take me, for example, I would not have understood these ideas had you not explained it all to me. I do not think the world will change immediately as soon as the King is gone."

"Yes... Revolution does not indeed happen overnight, Éponine" He gave this some thought. He was rather impressed by her capability for independent thought, using her experiences to form an opinion that does not automatically take his on faith. "But again you touched on a valid point regarding education, which I believe should be freely available to all. Yes, I had to explain the concepts initially to you, but you then took them and used them to think for yourself. Are you not yourself a true example of Condorcet's statement?"

Enjolras watched as her eyes lit up with comprehension, "That is true, isn't it?"

"Yes, and if I could teach you these ideas, now when you are — forgive me — no longer living in the streets and worrying about your next meal, then certainly all others like you can also be taught with proper education and proper living standards. Though, mind you, I do believe you are brighter than most, Éponine, and our venture here will possibly be rather _facile_ for me."

"Thank... Thank you, Enjolras." He said that last part so matter-of-fact — as if her intelligence was quite apparent to him — that Éponine was sufficiently distracted from feeling guilty about the first part of his statement, where he alluded to the fact that she was living in _Monsieur_ Combeferre's house and eating his food for free.

"You are quite welcome. But tell me, how do you feel about reading these books now?"

"Well... You are correct. I do find it more interesting!" She looked up at him with a bright smile, "Do you know, I once told Marius that I could have also been a student. I suppose I shall try to prove my own statement."

"I think you will be a great student, Éponine," he replied with a smile.

Something just occurred to her though. "But Enjolras, what do you get out of this? You said we both can benefit from this exercise?"

"I benefit from the ability to have these discussions with someone and knowing that you are learning because of me."

_And also that light that appeared in your eyes whenever you understood something — That was the most rewarding_, thought Enjolras, though he did not say it to her.

"Well, I think I shall write down some of what we said, lest I forget it all. You must bear with me though. I am not the fastest writer."

Enjolras watched her write with much interest. It really was more tedious to be a left-handed person, he observed, as she had to be more mindful of her hand rubbing off the words she just put down. It does not seem that her spelling was terribly good either, as she kept looking up at him and asking how to write certain words.

In spite of it all, he found himself enjoying his time indoors for the first time since it was imposed on him. Éponine really was the personification of all those for whom he fought. If he could not be out there, fighting for _Patria_, then for the moment at least he could be in here, helping this girl attempt to better herself.

Meanwhile, Éponine tried to concentrate on the words that she was carefully writing down and not wonder too much why Enjolras was staring at her with an odd smile on his face.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I had to research a little bit on literary thinkers/authors who would have influenced the French Republicans in the 1830s. I had no idea who precisely Enjolras would find illuminating, so I could only guess his thoughts from what I know of his character. I had never read Condorcet, so my interpretation of his writing may not have been completely accurate, but I think it's how Enjolras would interpret him. Fun fact about Condorcet? He wrote the book I quoted while on a self-imposed house arrest, trying to evade capture by the French authorities, so I thought that was the one Enjolras would have identified with and wanted to read the most as soon as he was given the opportunity.

**Autumn O'Shea Swan**, I had to smile when I read your review hoping to see more of Musichetta. By that time, I had already written the bit where Éponine spent some girl time with Musichetta, so hopefully you enjoyed it!

Also, I purposely am not very descriptive with the characters' looks because I want you to imagine who you want in the roles. However, for my own, I go with Aaron Tveit and Samantha Barks. And this chapter is possibly the first time I put something from the actors into the characters, namely that Aaron is right-handed while Sam is left-handed. I am also rather fascinated by left-handedness (I am right-handed and wish to be ambidextrous).

So what do you all think of this chapter? Please review :-). Or if not, follow/favorite, please! _Merci_ xoxo.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **Les Misérables and all its associated characters do not belong to me. I am also still not a French literary/philosophy/history scholar, so bear with me some more in this chapter.

**Summary: **One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras. Also features one-sided Marius/Éponine and Enjolras/Grantaire (E/R), as well as Joly/Musichetta/Bahorel, which are all canon anyway. Bonus for this chapter: Éponine/Musichetta friendship.

**Author's Notes: **Thank you so much for the kind reviews regarding the philosophical discussion I included in the last chapter. **Mormeril**, if they somehow helped you in school, then I am very glad, haha :-). Thanks also for the new follows and favorites! They certainly motivate me to write. This chapter is going to feel a bit different, I bet, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Over the next week, Éponine spent much of her time in Enjolras' room, slowly reading to him from his extensive collection. They did not read whole books, as Enjolras often asked her to find another passage in a different book when a line she just read inspired him to seek a connecting thread in another work. The whole process consumed much of their day, as one of them kept interrupting the reading to pose a question or discuss the subject. Éponine also had to take time to write down the more complex words and concepts.

In fact, Éponine found herself steadily writing in the notebook even when she was not sitting with Enjolras. She wrote about her experiences and feelings, which initially only included those that related to her lessons, but eventually evolved to anything that struck her fancy.

On the latter, she was not so concerned about her spelling, as she would certainly not be showing the entries to anyone. She wrote about Marius and Cosette, about her love for the man and about her own fate as compared to 'the lark,' considering how they spent their childhood together. It felt good to express her feelings somewhere. When the subject was exhausted, she started writing about the people around her.

She hoped Musichetta and _Monsieur_ Joly resolved their love troubles, because despite their unconventional relationship with _Monsieur_ Bahorel, it appeared that they were indeed truly devoted to each other. She wondered why _Monsieur_ Combeferre did not have a lover, seeing as he did not seem to be as opposed to the concept as Enjolras was, and speculated whether it had anything to with herself and Enjolras being in his home, invading his space.

As to the revolutionary leader himself, he was slowly becoming the most frequent subject of her entries. She was continually surprised that he was not as cold as she had anticipated, that he was serious but not severe in his opinions, and that he seemed to genuinely value her views. That last part made her feel the best.

She wrote all this down without restraint and in this way felt her notebook to be like a trusted friend. Her left hand was almost always now stained with ink that she no longer bothered to scrub it vigorously during her morning baths.

Enjolras also seemingly found new spirit from her reading and the subsequent discussions that followed. Éponine was indeed a quick study and had a knack for putting complex ideas into simple terms, pulling examples from her own life to express her opinions. This was what he found most illuminating. She was definitely no great orator, as her vocabulary was rather limited, but he thought that it was perhaps what he was missing in his attempts to engage with the common people prior to the barricade. He knew how to convey notions of '_liberté, égalité, fraternité'_ in grandiose terms that would light a fire in people's hearts, but he had trouble connecting with them on similar experiences or practical matters.

Éponine's practicality was possibly where their opinions most differed, Enjolras observed. At the start, he found her rather timid in expressing her disagreement with him, either because she was still finding her voice or because she still felt a sense of deference to him. Eventually, however, she grew more comfortable in telling him when his ideas might have issues in practical application. What was most amazing, moreover, was that she did not do it to be argumentative or clever, but rather simply expressed it as something that was rational for her, given her past experiences.

Enjolras found this rather frustrating at times, but also highly useful. Unlike Combeferre, who would do a mock debate with him using arguments from the opposing view, Éponine seemed to agree with the bases of his ideals, but thought more on how they would apply in everyday situations. He had always been one to favor bold, sweeping actions, but Éponine wanted to know precisely how or whether the details could be achieved.

Upon discussing the right to vote and whether France should have universal suffrage, for example, Éponine said that the concept made sense, but asked, "Would this not mean that people would simply just vote for whoever would give out the most money or grains or whatever else that would buy their fancy? That is certainly what my parents would do..."

"Bread and circuses," he nodded, explaining the origin of the Roman phrase. Enjolras was rather impressed with this line of thought, as it was not completely unlike one that had also been claimed by Voltaire, though they had not yet read the man. He could not deny that it again came back to the need for education, which was why he decided to get Éponine to focus on Condorcet or perhaps Rousseau's _Émile_, as opposed to fleeting between several books.

As of the last few days, however, their reading time was also interspersed with a regime that was introduced by Combeferre, who was quite an enthusiast for new medical technologies and techniques. The surgeon who had originally tended to Enjolras' bones had recently visited him again and determined that his fractures were healing well, so Combeferre asked Enjolras whether he would be willing to trial an avant-garde therapy method pioneered by a Swede named Ling. It had been shown to improve fitness after an injury, he said.

Knowing that this was the sort of thing Combeferre got excited about, but having nothing really to lose besides his immobilized time, Enjolras agreed. As it turned out, the treatment simply involved putting heat on the impacted muscles, massaging the area, and then getting him to do some simple stretches with what limited movements he could manage. Like philosophy, it seemed that medicine also relied on the simplest solutions sometimes, Enjolras thought.

Combeferre, meanwhile, was steadfast on his way to becoming either an acclaimed physician or an unlicensed unemployed one, as the number of his clandestine 'patients' continued to grow. Enjolras no longer minded those nights when they showed up and he had to be locked in his room with Éponine, as it just meant more time for their talks. Éponine seemed willing enough to stretch her reading time until late at night, one time even falling asleep with her head on folded arms resting on Enjolras' bed. Combeferre was thoroughly amused when he came in to check in on them after he had finished with his visitors. He thought he would never see the day when his trusted friend would spend a whole night talking to a _mademoiselle_ and then falling asleep with her in the same room. He carried Éponine back quietly to the living room, managing not to waken either one of them.

Their nighttime talks continued the more frequent Combeferre was kept occupied. After a while though, Éponine grew weary of discussing philosophy and wondered if they could not just read a different sort of story at night.

"What do you wish to read?" asked Enjolras.

"I don't know... Something that does not require too much thinking. My mind is fatigued from doing it all day."

Enjolras, whose interest had always been primarily political, barely owned any other kinds of books. However, he did have one of Rousseau's more romantic works... It was one sentimentality he allowed, as the book was a gift from his mother.

"All right," he relented. "Since you have been such a good sport with me... Do you see a book called _Julie, or the New Heloise_?"

As it turned out, _Julie_ was a romantic story written like a series of love letters. Éponine felt rather surprised that Enjolras even owned such a book and was moreover letting her read it to him, especially as it involved a girl falling in love with her tutor...

She could not help blushing at some of the lines that she had to say out loud to him, such as, "A hundred times a day I am tempted to throw myself at your feet, to bathe them in my tears, there to find death or forgiveness." It was so dramatic!

Nevertheless, she enjoyed getting lost in the tale, even in the company of perhaps the least sentimental man in the world.

Enjolras, meanwhile, internally argued that this book contained some excellent ethical questions that Éponine would benefit to learn, but let her read it to him without much attempt at a discussion.

He grew so accustomed to Éponine's company while Combeferre was busy with 'patients' that he began to feel a bit disappointed when Musichetta happened to be there as well, as she tended to monopolize Éponine's time with conversations. He considered whether he could get the other girl to join in the discussions, as she certainly had great wits, but for some reason felt that this was something between him and Éponine.

He supposed Éponine needed a female companion to share those things that women needed to share… For example, he was not inclined to lend his ear for talks of Marius.

Musichetta, on her part, could not help noticing the growing bond between Enjolras and Éponine. She broached the subject one night, when the two of them managed to get some time alone.

"You and Enjolras seem to be getting getting along well," she stated tentatively.

"Oh yes, he is helping me study those books of his. His shoulder is almost healed, so he soon will no longer need me to read to him, but I hope the lessons shall continue. I rather like bettering my mind," replied Éponine pleasantly.

"Yes, Enjolras is very clever... And quite handsome too, don't you think?"

"I suppose..."

"Yet Joly says he does not notice women, barely realizes they exist. In fact, you are possibly the only girl with whom he has spent a great deal of time..."

Éponine chuckled, "I trust that is still true. I do not think it matters to him that I am a girl. He does not interact with me like how a gentleman normally interacts with a lady. Not that I mind, as I am no lady."

"Yes, but it is surprising that he is devoting a significant amount of his time to you, no?"

"I do not think he has a choice, Musichetta, as he is stuck at home with me. I'm sure once he regains his fitness, he will be out there again, rallying the masses."

"Do you think you shall miss him when that happens? Do you enjoy his company?"

Éponine frowned, "Well... I think I will miss the lessons, but I understand that he has bigger concerns than my education. I do like his company, surprisingly... He is not as intimidating as I had originally thought. And he is a good teacher. I never thought I would enjoy learning so much."

"Well, it shows, Éponine," Musichetta smiled kindly. "You do look to be in a better state lately, both in mood and appearance."

Éponine beamed, "Thank you. As do you. Shall I assume that you and _Monsieur_ Joly have patched things up?"

"Oh yes indeed," Musichetta replied with a devious smile. "Joly may have peculiar concerns, particularly using his health to get out of... certain things, but I know what stirs him."

"I am sure you do," replied Éponine with a laugh.

Musichetta was watching her in contemplation, "Éponine, I wonder... You are rather young still, but have you ever had a lover?"

"Yes... There was someone once..." Éponine hesitated in telling the story, but decided that she could trust Musichetta to be nonjudgmental. She told her of Montparnasse. "But I had never loved anyone before Marius... I heard it is better when you are in love with your lover."

"Yes, that is true... There is a connection that is beyond physical when love is involved. But you are young still. I am sure you will fall in love with another person one day and experience it for yourself."

Musichetta regretted raising the topic as Éponine was looking glum again. It seemed to always be the case when the subject turned to Marius…

He still had not visited. He had sent word through Combeferre and Joly, both of whom had come calling to his grandfather's house recently, that he was steadily gaining his strength back, helped by the frequent walks that he and Cosette took together. He found it difficult, however, to break way from his grandfather's care to come visit Éponine and Enjolras, the latter of whom was a wanted man after all. The old man was showing renewed devotion to him, on account of him almost dying, which was wonderful in allowing him to accept Cosette and her father most warmly into his home, but also had the disadvantage of him being extra cautious about the authorities linking Marius to the rebels. So far, he had succeeded in preventing his grandson from being questioned about his presence at the barricade.

Combeferre and Joly, however, had no such luck. They had been questioned twice now, once when they had just finished a class together at school and another when they were separately making their way in the street. While the police did not suspect their presence at the barricade, they knew that they ran in the same circle as the fugitive Enjolras.

Combeferre was naturally concerned over the increasing number of 'patients' that were stopping by his house. A particularly shrewd person could deduce that the house had additional occupants and an especially desperate person would report it to the police in exchange for the reward...

Still, he could not turn his 'patients' away. He knew he was walking a fine line, in terms of his medical career, but ever since the barricades, he had felt an undeniable sense of responsibility to any who would come to him for medical help. He had come from a wealthy family, so his decision to go into medicine was more of an eccentricity his widowed mother tolerated, as opposed to a realistic source of living that either envisioned for him. He loved having a trade and he loved all the technological innovations that were continually being advanced in the medical field, but it was not as if he needed the lofty salary.

Joly was almost in the same situation, as he was the youngest son of rich merchant parents. All four of his brothers had gone into the family business, so he was granted the flexibility to choose his own profession. Like Combeferre, he had also decided to open his home to clandestine visitors. The only difference between them was that Joly had Musichetta to worry about. He could not afford to abandon her by going to prison, so he was taking a more cautious approach in admitting new 'patients'…

… Especially as his home was finally searched by the authorities recently. Apparently, someone had reported seeing two men going into his house with an injured person on the night of the barricades. Thankfully, Joly had neither medical guests nor Musichetta around that night, but the incident was enough to spook them all.

Combeferre and Joly needed to find a way to get Enjolras out of town or at least out of the nearby vicinity. They wracked their collective brains for options, each one less feasible than the next. The best possibility was for Enjolras to return home to his parents, but he was adamant that this be considered only as a last resort. Combeferre and Joly internally thought that it might indeed come to that, but entertained their leader with more ideas. The solution, however, did not present itself until Marius finally managed to make his way over to Combeferre's house one night.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Sorry to end that on a sort of cliffhanger, but it will be explained in the next chapter, which I'm already partially writing, as I know precisely what needs to happen.

The structure of this chapter is quite odd, I know, but I needed to move the timeline along, so I attempted to explain what all our major characters were up to.

And I realize that the Éponine/Enjolras romance is progressing at snail's pace, but I want it to evolve in a believable way, so hopefully you are all still staying with me!

**frustrated student**, I think you pointed out that you liked Enjolras being in a convalescent role. Well, I think that is a crucial part of my version of Enjolras :-). He strikes me as someone who is always so active and almost seems invincible that it made me wonder what would happen when he is physically strike down for once. Not permanently, mind you, but just for a while when he is forced to calm down and take stock of what's around him. I think the "Super" Enjolras would probably be moving too fast to notice Éponine, but this calmer version could realize that she has something valuable to offer him.

As always, I love to hear what you think, so do review if you can. Or follow/favorite! Thanks!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **_Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras. Also features one-sided Marius/Éponine and Enjolras/Grantaire (E/R), as well as Joly/Musichetta/Bahorel, which are all canon anyway.

**Author's Notes: **Thank you for all the reviews, PMs, and new follows/faves. I wrote this chapter as quickly as I could, as I also hate cliffhangers. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Éponine had been told by Combeferre ahead of time of Marius' plan to visit. Still, she could not stop herself from trembling when he finally arrived. She could not believe that the last time she saw him, she was bleeding in his arms, seemingly dying. It felt like a lifetime ago...

He was by himself and looked much as she remembered him, fresh-faced and boyishly handsome. He was moving more gingerly, but his injuries seemed to have all but healed. He greeted her with a warm smile and an embrace. Though she had succeeded in thinking about him less lately, she felt all her feelings returning — the longing, the heartache, the love — when his arms wrapped around her.

He seemed genuinely happy to see her. He said she looked well and thanked Combeferre for looking after her all this time. In fact, her wounds had almost all healed. She was at a point where she could leave his care, but for some reason could not yet bring herself to speak to _Monsieur_ Combeferre about it.

Marius, meanwhile, was telling her that he wished to talk to her, but he must now speak with Enjolras and Combeferre privately first, so would she mind terribly waiting for him in the living room?

Éponine agreed, feeling apprehensive about what Marius was going to say. She suspected she knew what it was going to be…

Marius left her to join Combeferre and Enjolras in the spare room. Joly was not present, as he had a previous engagement with Musichetta.

Enjolras, who had now regained the use of his left hand and arm, was eating his dinner slowly when Marius came in. Marius thought the revolutionary leader looked to be in good health, considering his injuries, and with a calmer demeanor than he had ever seen on him before.

Marius started by apologizing for not coming around until presently. Between his wounds and the cares of his grandfather and Cosette, it had been difficult to get away.

They talked shop for a while, Enjolras filling him in on his plans to re-join the Republican movement either by re-forming _Les Amis_ and recruiting new members or joining forces with other student societies.

Marius had been dreading this. It was not that he was no longer dedicated to the cause, but he now had Cosette to think about (and also that other factor that had been plaguing his mind the last few days). Like Joly with Musichetta, Marius could not go to prison and leave Cosette all alone. And she would be all alone...

He started by tentatively asking Enjolras whether it was feasible for only the four of them to re-form the society, especially given that the heat was on for Enjolras and he might in fact need to flee the city. Combeferre agreed to an extent, saying that Enjolras definitely must remain out of sight, especially as he was not near enough to getting his fitness back.

Marius seized the opening that Combeferre provided and suggested if perhaps there were other ways they might contribute to the fight that were not so... direct.

Enjolras felt instantly annoyed. He should not have been surprised, really. Pontmercy might have shown incredible courage at the barricade, but he was after all still a Bonapartist at heart, especially now that he was back in the comforts of his grandfather's home and the loving embrace of his Cosette.

Combeferre noticed Enjolras' expression and intervened before his friend had a chance to rebuke the younger man.

"Marius has a point, Enjolras. The government has succeeded in depleting our numbers significantly. Even among the other societies, the ranks are in disarray and most of the leadership cannot agree on any better tactics than using the trials to demonstrate government persecution or going into hiding to re-stock their arsenal and recruit members from the ground up. Meanwhile, Louis-Philippe is more popular than ever among the common people."

Enjolras gritted his teeth in frustration, "I cannot sit still and do nothing while fellow fighters are out there being hunted and doing everything they can to re-build our ranks."

"I am afraid you are also being hunted, _mon ami_," said Combeferre. "You — or in fact any of us — will serve no purpose by being a martyr. We cannot fight injustices from inside a prison cell."

"I cannot risk going to jail, Enjolras," Marius said slowly. "It is not a question of cowardice or a lack of commitment to our goals or even my standing with my grandfather... It is simply... Cosette relies on me. Now more than ever. I wish to marry her and..."

Marius hesitated. Should he impart the next part to his friends? The man did tell him in confidence… But carrying the secret had been such a burden on his soul... He had no one else from whom he could seek advice.

He looked at Enjolras and Combeferre gravely before continuing, "Cosette's father is not who he says he is. He is... in trouble with the law. I cannot say how or who in fact he really is, as I gave him my word to keep that between us, but the bottom line is that he has given Cosette to my care and blessed our union. He intends to disappear somewhere without telling her, as he cannot risk what it would do to her if he were exposed… So you see, I will be the only person left in this world for Cosette. For her sake, I cannot be as reckless with my life and contribute to the fight as I used to..."

Enjolras and Combeferre watched Marius in silence as they processed the information.

"How serious is his crime?" asked Combeferre finally.

"I do not think it is quite so terrible, but he would be considered a criminal."

"All of us here are considered criminals, Marius," said Enjolras impatiently.

"What of _Mademoiselle_ Cosette? Certainly you cannot let her father leave without telling her why."

"I have tried to convince him to stay, telling him that it will break Cosette's heart if he abandons her without explanation. But he has made up his mind and it is ultimately his decision, Combeferre. He made me promise to think of her future. And, yes, I do realize that I am also considered a criminal in the eye of the law, Enjolras, and therefore has no right to pass judgment on _Monsieur _Fauchelevent. But Cosette is an innocent who will be harmed if I am ever discovered and arrested…"

Enjolras internally groaned. This was why he was against romantic entanglements. They would change a man, muddle his priorities, and waver his commitment to the important things.

"So you have come to tell me that you can no longer participate in our movement?" He asked Marius in a cool tone.

"Yes… Not in a direct way, at least… I am sorry, Enjolras. I truly am."

_Perhaps one day, you shall experience the kind of love that has forced me to make this decision. Perhaps then, you could forgive me_, Marius thought but not said to his leader.

Enjolras was sorely disappointed with Pontmercy to say the least. However, he could not miss the sincerity in the man's face. And he supposed he could not _force_ Marius to join the fight...

He might have, before the barricade. His friends (followers?) had even jested that they treated a request from him like an order... But ever since the barricade… Well, he had been feeling a bit more… defeated. Or rather, he began to question his bold decisions and wondered whether it would not be better if he were more temperate and reasonable… Marius was a full-grown man after all and was allowed to make his own decisions and take whatever actions he needed to fulfill the promises that he had made. So with this line of thought, Enjolras gave Marius a nod.

Combeferre, who was relieved that Enjolras did not go off at Marius, suddenly had a stroke of inspiration, "Where does he intend to go? _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent, I mean..."

Marius, who was also relieved that Enjolras had seemingly accepted his decision, looked at Combeferre in surprise, "I do not know... I think that is the point, so that I will never be tempted to tell Cosette where to find him."

Combeferre nodded, "But you know when he intends to leave?"

"Yes..." Marius told him of the date and other details that he knew of Jean Valjean's egress. "But why does that matter to you?"

"Do not concern yourself over the matter, Marius," Combeferre said kindly, placing a hand on Marius's shoulder. "After all, the less you are connected with the criminal element the better it is for you and _Mademoiselle_ Cosette. Speaking of whom, shall we congratulate you on your blessed engagement?"

"No, I have not yet proposed to her. I have been struggling with how I would break her father's news to her, if I should propose before or after his departure."

"I am sure you will act for the best," said Combeferre.

Marius nodded, starting to get up. Enjolras had not said anything, but it did seem that he was letting him go without holding his decision against him. They would certainly not be the closest of friends, but Marius only had the utmost respect for his leader. And yes, he still thought of Enjolras as his leader, despite the circumstances.

"I am truly very glad to see you looking well, Enjolras. I will try to continue to help in any way I can if you need me. Thank you for allowing me to fight alongside you. It has been an honor," Marius said, extending his hand towards Enjolras.

Enjolras twisted up his left hand to meet the handshake, as his other was still bound in cast. "You too, Marius. I wish you the best."

Marius turned to Combeferre, "Do you think I might borrow your bedroom to speak to Éponine privately?"

"Take it, _mon ami_. But you shall have privacy in the living room as well, as I intend to remain here to talk to Enjolras."

"Thank you, Combeferre."

And with that, Marius left, shutting the door behind him.

Enjolras was quite distracted when Marius brought up Éponine. He prayed that Marius would be gentle with her when he broke the news of his upcoming nuptials to Cosette. And he hoped she would not be so melancholy as a result that she would wish to stop their talks…

Enjolras was sufficiently distracted, in fact, that he did not notice Combeferre looking at him with his eyes shining brightly as soon as Marius had gone.

"Enjolras!"

That startled him out of his reverie. "What?"

"I think I have a plan to get you out of danger..."

While the two men talked in the spare bedroom, Marius made his way back to the living room.

He found Éponine in the same position as he had left her. It did not seem that she even moved at all. He decided to speak to her there, so he took a seat on the nearest chair.

"Éponine."

She looked at him as if dazed, "Marius."

"Éponine, I cannot tell you how happy I am to see that you are looking well." And she indeed looked better than he had ever seen her. She was clean, showing no sign of the grime from the streets, and her cheeks had even filled up a little.

"You too, Marius. You seem to have fully recovered from your wounds."

"Yes, I am lucky to have many people who care for my wellbeing." He took her hand then, the right one, which was no longer bandaged. But he could feel the scars from the burn wound underneath his fingers, reminding him of what she did for him at the barricade… Not that he would ever forget.

"Éponine..." he said slowly. "I am very relieved that you survived that night. I do not think I could live with myself if you had died for me."

"I do not think I could, if I had let you die."

"I want you to know that I am extremely grateful. I will forever owe my life to you... Know that it is a debt I will never be able to repay and that you shall always have a special place in my heart because of it… Do you understand what I am trying to say?"

Éponine nodded, somehow recalling the conversation she had with Enjolras regarding _Monsieur_ Grantaire. He had told her Marius would say this.

"And yet..." Marius' face darkened as he struggled to find the words for what he needed to say next, "Éponine, you should not have done that for me. I apologize for not being… sensitive enough to your feelings prior to the barricade. If I had known, I would have never asked you to run all those errands for me for Cosette."

"I wanted to do it for you. It made you happy."

"Yes, but Éponine, I cannot… reciprocate your kindness to me with the same feelings… I love Cosette… In fact… I wish to marry her… I think you should know that. Please do not think I say that with an intention to hurt you, as that is the last thing I would want. I will forever cherish you as a friend, but… I cannot love you like that. I am sorry, Éponine."

Éponine felt her heart breaking all over again, but she was not surprised, not even of the news that he was going to marry 'the lark'. "I know, Marius… Sometimes I do also wish that I do not love you like this," she said in a deflated tone.

He softly squeezed her hand, "Your heart will heal. I do not doubt that, Éponine. You are the strongest girl I know."

"Thank you, Marius. Thank you for being honest with me. I think… I needed to hear it."

Marius gave her hand one last squeeze and then let it go. And as he broke contact, Éponine felt her last remaining thread to Marius — to the idea of Marius, to the fantasy of Marius — breaking with it.

Perhaps one day she would be able to look at him with nothing more than cordial friendship, but at the moment, her heart was too broken to conceive of the possibility. He had been such a central part of her existence, the only good thing in life, her motivation for arising in the morning… Now that that door was permanently shut to her, what would she do?

* * *

It was later that night. Marius had left hours before, but Éponine still could not sleep. She had not cried. In fact, she did not cry throughout Marius' talk with her. None of what he said came at a shock to her… Yet it was more about the implication of what he said that had kept her up. If Marius was not to be a regular fixture in her life, what would she do with herself? What was her purpose now? She was utterly lost.

She got up from the sofa, finally giving up on slumber altogether, not quite registering where she was going. Somehow she ended up at Enjolras' door and before she realized what she was doing, she gave it a soft knock.

To her surprise, she heard him responding immediately.

She opened the door to see the room blanketed in darkness, but he was sitting up in bed not looking like she had just awakened him. "Would you mind if I come in?"

She saw the figure on the bed shaking his head, so she entered and shut the door behind her quietly, not wishing to wake up _Monsieur_ Combeferre. She walked over to the desk and lit a lamp, placing it on the bedside table. In the light, she could tell that he definitely had not been in slumber. She took her usual chair next to the bed.

"Can't sleep?" she asked.

"No."

"Me neither. I take it Marius did not give you good news?"

"No, he did not… How are you? How did it go with Marius?" Enjolras asked with genuine concern. He had been wanting to find out, but she had not gone to see him after Marius left, so he assumed she perhaps wanted some time alone.

"I know you do not like to talk about feelings. Are you certain you wish to hear this?"

"I have nowhere to go and nothing to do."

"Well, he said… everything I expected him to say… that he will be forever grateful for my sacrifice and will consider me a friend for life, but… he does not love me. He loves Cosette. He wishes to marry Cosette."

"Yes, he told us that news… You do not… I mean, you seem to holding yourself together well."

"I do, don't I? I suppose it is because I already know… all that. But to be completely honest, my heart feels… freshly broken." She looked at him in sadness, "I wish you could teach me how to keep my heart closed like you, Enjolras. I begin to think you have it right, being — what was it, you said? — being 'indifferent to romantic pursuits'. How do you do it?"

Enjolras was baffled by the odd question, "I do not know… I suppose it takes a conscious effort to keep to the priorities that you have set for yourself. I am committed to _Patria_, so _she_ will be my mistress."

But even as he said it, he felt his passion fading. He had not been able to contribute to the fight for some time now and would not be able to actively do so in the near future. The talk with Marius tonight just solidified what he already knew, that _Les Amis_ was dead. Not all of its members had died that night, but the society was gone. Marius had moved on, Combeferre and Joly seemed to be enduring for his sake, but they also had other concerns and other ways in which they could contribute. While he…

He felt… lost. Fighting for France had always been his purpose, his main focus in life, his _raison d'être_. Without it, what was he? He might as well give up and start falling in love with the first girl that caught his fancy, like Pontmercy.

Éponine, as seemed to be her custom these days, brought his focus back to her with her sheer practicality, "It seems lonely though, Enjolras… _Patria_ cannot hold your hand or provide you with a warm embrace when you need it. It does not offer you an ear with which to share your troubles or a soft body with which to share your bed…" She looked a him with a sad smile, "But perhaps you are above such physical concerns… I am not… So I suppose I must endure this pain and hope that one day I can find myself in love with another who loves me back."

Enjolras did not really know what to say to that. Éponine appeared to be finished with pouring her heart out to him though, as she now gazed at him with an enquiring look.

"So I know why I have trouble sleeping tonight. Why do you? Tell me. Perhaps I can help."

"Combeferre thinks he has found a solution for my predicament with the law."

"Is that not good?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not… He intends to negotiate my transport to a safe place."

"You will be leaving?"

"It seems so."

"Where will you go?"

"I do not know yet. Out of the city perhaps. Somewhere..."

"Oh…"

Éponine could not stop the thought that came un-beckoned to her mind. But what about her? What about their lessons?

Enjolras noticed Éponine going quiet, seemingly in contemplation. The thought also occurred to him. What if she came with him? Would she? He would certainly be grateful for the company. And he wanted her to continue her studies.

But neither said what they were thinking to each other.

"Who will you go with?"

"I cannot say yet. Neither Combeferre nor Joly are coming."

"And when will you go?"

"Within the next week perhaps. But Combeferre still has to arrange it… I do not know if I want him to succeed, Éponine. I do not wish to stay here if my presence endangers him or his practice. But I do not exactly wish to be sent off either. I will be further away from the fight."

"I understand."

"That is why I cannot sleep, Éponine."

"It is always to do with thoughts with you, Enjolras."

He smiled in amusement, "Yes, it seems that way, does it not?"

"Well, my advice to you is this: Do not fret about it now. No decision has been made, as you said. _Monsieur_ Combeferre is still finalizing the arrangements. Worry about it when you have to."

"Yes, perhaps you have a point… Though I am feeling increasingly powerless lately to stop the tide of fate that is taking me farther and farther away from where I wish to be."

"We have always been powerless, Enjolras. The trick is to fight it when we can, but surrender to its flow when we cannot and see where it takes us."

"That is… very wise, Éponine."

"It comes from having a life that had never gone precisely how I wanted it to go… I resigned myself to the mercy of fate a long time ago."

Before Enjolras could say anything in return though, she stood up from her seat, "Now, let us try to get some sleep."

"Good night, Éponine," said Enjolras.

"Good night, Enjolras. Thank you for the talk," she said at the doorway, offering him a small smile.

"Thank _you_. Sleep well."

He could not help thinking that he would miss the girl if he were indeed to go away.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Okay, so I didn't exactly spell out the solution for the "cliffhanger", but I think you can guess where I'm going with this, don't you? Let me know of your thoughts!

Boy, Marius had the tough job of essentially "breaking up" with two people, didn't he? It's very interesting to try and get into his head for this chapter. As I said, he's not my favorite character, because I couldn't initially comprehend why he was just happy to go back to a _bourgeois_ existence after his friends were all killed. But after I'd thought about it more, I think I understand him better now. Of course, in the canon, Marius had no one to pull him in the other direction or to even provide an ear for his concerns after JVJ confided his secret to him. Hopefully this chapter did justice to his thoughts and considerations. My version of Marius and the timeline are based more on the play/movie.

Hope you liked all the different conversations in this chapter. It should make up for the previous one, which barely had any.

Please continue to review/follow/favorite! :-) Do PM me as well if you wish.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **_Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras. Also features one-sided Marius/Éponine and Enjolras/Grantaire (E/R), as well as Joly/Musichetta/Bahorel, which are all canon anyway.

**Author's Notes: **So here's the deal: This "Chapter 9" and the following "Chapter 10" are actually part of the same original "Chapter 9" I posted. But because this site had a glitch last night, my original Chapter 9 didn't post. So I tried posting a Chapter 10 with the same chapter 9 content to see if it'll prompt it. It didn't work. But then several hours ago, both 9 and 10 posted with the same content. I deleted Chapter 10, but the link to Chapter 10 didn't disappear and is now a broken link. So what I've done is split my Chapter 9: The first part is posted in "Chapter 9" and the next in "Chapter 10". So my next update will be "Chapter 11" :-). Wow, hopefully that wasn't confusing!

Thank you again for all the reviews — both from my regular readers (believe me, though I do not always thank you personally, I recognized your names!) and new ones — as well as the new follows and faves. Hopefully you find this chapter interesting!

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Combeferre went to _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent's place as soon as he was able, as they only had a very narrow window if Marius's information was accurate. He stood in the street watching the house for a while, only approaching the door when he was certain that the _Monsieur_ was home and that _Mademoiselle_ Cosette had left for her walk with Marius.

He was let into the house by _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent himself. Combeferre had thought of what he was going to say very carefully beforehand, as this would not be an easy subject to broach. He started by introducing himself as a friend of Marius. He had not had the pleasure to make the acquaintance of _Mademoiselle_ Cosette, but he knew of her from Marius. He then said that he was also a friend Enjolras. He asked whether the _Monsieur_ knew who that was.

Jean Valjean was cautious immediately. Did this man know of his presence at the barricade that night? He decided that denial would be the best strategy, so he said, no, he was not familiar with the name.

Combeferre, who had left with Joly and the wounded Éponine before Valjean arrived at the barricade, was in fact not expecting any recognition from the other man. He continued by saying that Enjolras was a Republican leader of a student society who was responsible for one of the barricades during the recent insurrection... The very same one, in fact, that Marius had joined to fight. Was the _Monsieur_ aware of that?

Valjean was starting to get confused. Did this man somehow find out that he was the one who saved Marius? What use could he have of that information though? Was he going to report their participation to the authorities?

As _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent had not yet said anything, Combeferre pressed on. He said that he himself was also present at the same barricade that night, but had left with a fellow fighter prior to the start of fighting to transport a wounded person out of the site. It was perhaps the only reason that they breathed still, as most of their friends perished that night. He did not know who saved Marius, but he told the _Monsieur_ that he and his friend came back and managed to rescue Enjolras, who escaped with some very serious injuries, but was thankfully very much alive.

Combeferre searched the other man's expression. The _Monsieur_ seemed to have made no judgment on anything he had said so far... Or he simply had a face that was difficult to read.

"At this stage, _Monsieur_, I would like to clarify that my visit here today is without any ill intention on my part or any purpose to... extort anything from you. I would beg you to keep this in mind as I say the next part."

Valjean nodded for him to continue, completely curious as to what this man could possibly want from him, as he was not even aware of his involvement at the barricade after all.

"I come here, _Monsieur_, to implore you to help us. Enjolras is wanted by the authorities for his role in the rebellion. However, as I mentioned, he is seriously injured. He currently cannot walk, moreover run, and certainly does not belong in prison. He is also one of the most righteous men around and someone I am proud to call my dearest friend. Even Marius can attest to this, even though you should know that he has decided to distance himself from our company understandably with your daughter's safety in mind. What I am trying very earnestly to say in a roundabout way is that Enjolras needs to escape the heat that is currently upon him... And so I am requesting your help to take him with you when you leave."

Valjean was shocked, "When I leave? You know about… Marius told you—"

"I assure you that Marius did not betray your full trust. He needed to confide in someone, as your admission to him and your petition to keep _Mademoiselle_ Cosette in the dark have been preying on his conscience. Rest assured that he intends to fulfill every promise that he has made to you. The only facts he imparted to Enjolras and myself are that you are sought by the law and that you are fleeing to safeguard your daughter's future. Believe me when I say that we do not concern ourselves over whatever crimes you might have committed. I told you before of our involvement at the barricade to show that we are also criminals in the eye of the law. You now know that of us, _Monsieur_, and are free to use that information if you so wish. As I said before, I am not here to extort an assent from you. If you refuse me today, I promise that your secret will be safe with us. I only beseech you to take my request into consideration, to allow Enjolras to depart with you."

Valjean was quiet for a while, trying to process the information, "Does Marius know you have come to ask this of me?"

"No, in consideration of his intention to distance himself from any criminality for your daughter's sake, I have left him out of this."

"Do you know where I wish to go?"

"No, Marius did not know."

"Then how do you know I am headed towards a place of safety for your friend?"

"I do not know, _Monsieur_, but I am out of options. And — forgive me — considering the drastic measures that you are taking — relinquishing the care of your daughter, your intent to disappear completely from her life — I have assumed that wherever you are going, you have chosen it with the utmost care to ensure that you will not be found."

"You do realize that it will be much harder for me to travel with an extra person in my carriage?"

"Yes, that is why I would not have imposed upon you this request had I any other choice."

Valjean contemplated Combeferre's request. This man did look honorably sincere in his demeanor and Valjean had actually gotten to know Enjolras briefly during the time that he had spent at the barricade. He certainly did not owe the revolutionary leader anything further, having saved his life once. But he also could not deny that the man had courage, nobility, and complete dedication to his cause and fellow fighters. He did not think Enjolras deserved to escape the barricade with his life intact only to be thrown in jail. Perhaps in this last deed before he surrendered his life to God, Jean Valjean would help save this man's life once more.

"Do you have papers?"

"No, but I shall look into acquiring some if so required."

"No, do not bother. You will not find one good enough at such short notice. I have extra papers that your friend can use… One of my old identities."

"Shall I happily assume that you have granted our appeal?"

"Yes, but you must take care to ensure that the plan stays between us and your friend. Does anyone intend to accompany him? You said that he is still quite seriously injured. Does he have a caretaker?"

"I had not thought of that…" Something just occurred to Combeferre though. "There might be someone… But I have not asked her. You would not happen to have papers for a young lady as well, would you?"

"As a matter of fact, I have papers that Cosette would have used in case we needed to get away. I suppose she would no longer have use for them now that she is in Marius' protection..."

Combeferre nodded, saying that he would confirm the young lady's presence shortly. They discussed the details for a while, of precisely when Valjean intended to leave, his method, his route, and _where_ he intended to go. Valjean mentioned that if the _mademoiselle_ did indeed come, there was one condition that would need to be met once they arrived at their destination. Make sure she was aware of it, he told Combeferre, who thought that it was indeed quite an unorthodox requirement…

After all was settled, Combeferre took his leave, thanking the _Monsieur_ earnestly for his help. He hurried home to break the news to Enjolras… And also Éponine, as this might impact her after all.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Remember this is only the first part of my original Chapter 9. Read on to Chapter 10 to see the next part!

I had planned for JVJ's involvement in É/E's storyline since the start, though it initially intimidated me a bit, as it'd be the biggest part of canon I changed since the barricade (obviously I am going with the play canon here, rather than the book, as I think in the book, JVJ didn't go away to a convent but was slowly exiled by Marius). Hopefully I justified his participation well enough though.

I could not figure out the alias that JVJ was using at this time, so I just went with Fauchelevent, since that's the name he was using in the convent. Tell me, do the nuns in the convent know Cosette as Cosette or another name?

Anyway, tell me what you think through review/PM! Or follow/favorite, thank you :-).


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **_Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras. Also features one-sided Marius/Éponine and Enjolras/Grantaire (E/R), as well as Joly/Musichetta/Bahorel, which are all canon anyway. Bonus for this chapter: Combeferre/Enjolras friendship and Combeferre/Éponine friendship.

**Author's Notes: **Okay this is the second part of the original Chapter 9 I posted! Hopefully you enjoy it. The next part will be Chapter 11 :-).

* * *

**Chapter 10  
**

Combeferre came back to witness a peculiar sight in Enjolras' room.

It appeared that his friend and Éponine were in the middle of one of their lessons. Usually, as far as he was aware, they focused on reading and discussion. Today, however, it seemed that Enjolras was trying to teach Éponine to write better. Or more precisely, to show her another way in which she could hold her pen better.

They were sitting on the bed side-by-side and very close to each other, his left cheek almost brushing her hair. She had her notebook opened on her lap and her pen in her left hand. He, meanwhile, had his left arm around her with his hand holding hers, moving it to various positions over the page.

"Mind you, I am not _gaucher_ like you, Éponine," Enjolras was saying right before Combeferre came in. "But as I will be confined to my left hand in the foreseeable future, I have tried to see if I can use it to write anything at all. I am completely hopeless, obviously, but I have thought of different ways in which you can change the positioning of your pen, perhaps, so as to not smudge your lines as much."

They both looked up as Combeferre came in.

Éponine had the decency to blush, but Enjolras looked oblivious, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for _him_ — out of anybody — to be found in bed, effectively embracing a young lady and holding her hand.

She got up from the bed swiftly and almost stood at attention in front of Combeferre, "Do you wish to speak to Enjolras privately, _Monsieur_? I shall leave."

Combeferre smiled kindly at the girl, "Yes. If you would not mind giving us a few moments, Éponine? I will not be long. You shall be able to continue with your lesson shortly."

Éponine gathered her things and left without a backward glance at Enjolras. Combeferre turned to his friend with an amused grin.

"What?"

Combeferre's only reply was a raised eyebrow. If Enjolras was anyone else — every one of his other friends in fact — he would have let loose a teasing retort. As such, Combeferre feared any such joke would be lost on Enjolras.

"Nothing."

He proceeded to tell him how his meeting with _Monsieur _Fauchelevent went today, including all the details of when and where the _Monsieur_ intended to go.

Enjolras felt his mood dampening slightly. A convent was not precisely the most thrilling place in which he could have hoped to end up. However, it _was_ located in Paris, so he did not have to go so far away. And there was that right of sanctuary that was afforded by the Church if they were ever so required to invoke it...

Combeferre continued to explain the plan with the papers: Enjolras was to take on different identities on the road and on arrival at the convent, as it appeared that _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent had a pre-existing relationship with the nuns of _Petit-Picpus_ and had to come up with a convincing story of who Enjolras was to him.

Combeferre stopped himself then, wondering if he should tell Enjolras about his intention to ask Éponine to come.

No, not until the girl had agreed, he thought, especially since there was that unusual stipulation that _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent stated. Combeferre did not wish to raise Enjolras' hope and then have to dash it.

But… Would he really be raising Enjolras' hope? He looked at his stoic friend and wondered seriously how the other man would feel about the possibility of being without Éponine's company for the first time since... well, since the barricade.

Combeferre could not miss the friendship that had developed between them. She had in fact been his primary carer and companion ever since he got injured. Perhaps Enjolras did not or could not (or could not yet?) have... _traditional_ feelings for the girl, but he must have some kind of attachment to her…

As Enjolras' closest friend, Combeferre had always known that the revolutionary leader was not heartless. He was just... better than most people at keeping his feelings concealed and at placing his focus on only those things that he considered important.

Still, Enjolras had so far shown himself to be thoroughly immune to women. And it did not seem that this had changed with Éponine, if that scene he interrupted earlier was any indication... If Enjolras was… _drawn_ to Éponine in the conventional sense, would he not have looked more embarrassed when Combeferre walked in? However, Combeferre had no basis for comparison, really, as he had never seen Enjolras so much as interacted with a young lady before…

What of the girl though? Women generally could not fail to notice his friend's good looks, but Éponine had interestingly also shown herself to be immune to Enjolras' physical appearance. It was possibly because she was too fixated on Marius… But Pontmercy was out of the picture now… And she did seem to genuinely enjoy looking after Enjolras… With that, Combeferre thought he'd found the best way to frame his request to Éponine.

He turned his attention back to Enjolras and asked if he was fine with all the arrangements. The former leader gave a half-hearted acquiescence. Well, he did not have a choice, did he? He would have to go away… Until at least the heat was off him or his injuries had healed.

Combeferre got up and placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. He would take some luncheon, he said, and then inform Monsieur Fauchelevent that the plan was set.

He walked into the kitchen to see Éponine standing over the stove, ladling stew onto a plate.

"Have you had lunch, _Monsieur_?"

"No, I was just about to fix myself something. What have you made?"

"_Pot-au-feu_. I had left it to simmer since this morning. Would you like some?"

"Certainly, thank you. Would you join me, Éponine?"

She handed him a plate and took another for herself. They sat down together in the dining room.

Combeferre had not been eating Éponine's cooking as consistently as Enjolras had, but even he could not miss the improvement in her ability. The stew was quite tasty, so he said so, praising her skills.

"It is helped by having the right ingredients, _Monsieur_, and by being able to use prime beef," replied Éponine modestly.

_Monsieur_ Combeferre had indeed always left too much money for her to purchase groceries. He either did not know how much food cost or he was perhaps expecting her to keep his larder fully stocked. Every time she tried to return the extra cash, he said that he wanted her to keep it, just in case she needed it. Not wishing to spend anything extra on herself, she decided to use much of it to buy the best quality meat and vegetables available, so that the gents could at least have some fresh food, despite her less than stellar cooking skills. Nevertheless, there was always leftover money and she could not avoid feeling that she was getting paid on top of living in _Monsieur_ Combeferre's house for free, when it really should have been the other way around.

This was actually something that she had been meaning to bring up with him. She assumed that he had spoken with Enjolras just now to finalize the latter's escape plan. Once Enjolras was gone, there would no longer be anything keeping her in this house… Her wounds had all but healed, so really, she was only sustaining to keep Enjolras company and to help him around when _Monsieur_ Combeferre was not available.

"_Monsieur_," she began, but at the same time he said, "Éponine…"

"Pardon me, would you like to speak first?" Combeferre asked.

"No, please, go ahead, _Monsieur_."

"Very well… Éponine, we have known each other for a while now. Will you permit me to speak candidly?"

"Of course, _Monsieur_."

"Éponine, I wonder if you have given any thought to what you would like to do with your life?"

Éponine was quite surprised to hear the _Monsieur_ raising the subject that she had intended to broach after all. She did not blame him if he thought that she had worn off her welcome in his home and wanted her to pay him back in some ways.

"I could go back to… help my parents. I am afraid I am not much skilled for anything else. Forgive me, _Monsieur_, I know that I have been living here without contributing my keep—"

"Éponine," Combeferre quickly interrupted. "You misunderstood my meaning. I have no intention to put you out. I certainly do not wish for you to go back to your parents if I could help it. Forgive me, I do not know them, but your father at least does not seem to care very much for your wellbeing and future. As to your claim that you are not contributing in this house, I simply do not accept it. You have done a splendid job in keeping my home clean and well-stocked with food, first of all, when I consider you a house guest and not a housekeeper, and second of all — and I think this is most important — you have acted as an excellent caretaker for Enjolras, keeping him company and tending to his needs while he is incapacitated by his injuries. In fact, that is why I asked my previous question. I think you have a great talent for it and may wish to consider it as a profession you could pursue…"

Éponine was stunned. She had not expected him to say anything of this sort. She did not know how to respond.

As she had not replied, Combeferre continued, "I wonder if you would consider a proposition that I have for you… I do not know if Enjolras has told you that I have arranged for him to go into hiding until either the heat on him abates or he has fully regained his fitness. But seeing as he still requires much help currently in day-to-day tasks and I will not be able to come with him, I wonder if you would be interested in accompanying him? You may use your experience with him to possibly look for employment later or seek formal training if you so wish. I will also be happy to provide you with a salary in exchange for your services of course."

Éponine almost could not believe her ears. She was not sure of what to say first. Finally, she settled on, "Do you think Enjolras would want me to come?"

"I have not discussed it with him, as I thought I should ask your opinion first, but I am certain that he will welcome your presence. You can also continue those lessons that you have with him if you wish. Apart from starting revolutions, Enjolras is never happier than when he has someone with whom he could discuss his lofty ideals."

"I do like learning from him. And I certainly do not mind helping him with other tasks…" Éponine was warming up to the idea. She as a caretaker? She would have never considered it before. It was certainly a possibility…

But somehow she felt that taking money for spending time with Enjolras would not be right. It would make their relationship too… _formal_. She actually enjoyed passing the day with him… And it is a likely possibility that he would wish to persist with her studies… That would be payment enough.

"So you will do it then?" asked Combeferre.

"Yes, but I cannot take a salary, as I am still indebted to Enjolras for saving my life."

"Very well… Now I must tell you that this trip will be… clandestine in nature and there is one rather controversial condition to which you must agree if you are to be accepted at your destination."

Combeferre then imparted the plan that he had set forth with _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent. Éponine was astounded to hear the situation with Cosette's father and what he intended to do for her, but she was even more aghast to discover what the requirement was that she needed to meet.

"Enjolras will never go for it!"

"Yes, I realize that it is rather extreme," conceded Combeferre. "And I would understand of course if you are wholly comfortable with the idea and wish to withdraw your earlier agreement. But perhaps… Why not discuss it with Enjolras? See how the two of you feel about the arrangement."

Éponine doubted that Enjolras would even entertain such a possibility. And she? Well, she would not be entirely at ease with it. She cared very little for her honor or reputation, as she barely had any, but she did not wish to… _force_ this level of intimacy on him.

Combeferre got up to clear their meals, imploring her to speak with Enjolras first before making her decision. If she decided not to come after all, Combeferre said that he would be very happy to offer her a job here as his helper for when his 'patients' came to visit, but he did prefer that Enjolras did not have to go away by himself. She was so distracted that she did not object when he took the dirty dish off her and carried it to the kitchen for a wash. She was still in deep thought when he came back to the dining room. He told her he needed to go see _Monsieur _Fauchelevent again to finalize their plans. He would tell him that she was coming unless she preferred him not to?

Éponine replied that she would speak to Enjolras, but, no, for the moment, please tell _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent that she would accompany them.

Combeferre was happy to hear it. As soon as he'd gone, Éponine went to get a plate of food for Enjolras.

"Thank you, Éponine," he said as he took it from her. As his left shoulder had healed, he had been managing to eat by himself, though sometimes he would need Éponine's help to cut the food into bite-sized pieces. She had thought to do that today, before she brought the dish in, so she had nothing else to do but to sit there and watch him eat, wondering how she would bring up what she needed to tell him...

"Éponine, you should know that Combeferre has finalized the details of my escape," he said in between mouthfuls of food. He must say that he now rather liked Éponine's cooking and would miss it once he was gone.

"Yes, he told me as we dined earlier."

"He did?"

"Yes…" Éponine said slowly, "He asked if I would be interested in coming with you."

Enjolras stopped eating and looked at her in surprise, "Do _you_ wish to come with me?"

"Do _you _wish me to come with you?"

"Well, I do not know what your plans are, so I would not want to impose… But yes, I shall be very grateful for your company if you are so willing."

"Will you?" Éponine asked with a genuine smile. "Truthfully, I do not have anything waiting for me on the outside. _Monsieur_ Combeferre thought I might come along to help you out on a day-to-day basis, like what I have been doing so far, and that I might use the experience to seek employment later on."

"Oh… So it is a job offer?" Enjolras asked, feeling oddly disappointed though he did not know why.

"Well, he positioned it as such initially — and I am not ruling out the possibility of going into the trade later on — but I did not take his offer for pay. Keeping you company everyday is not a chore for me, Enjolras," she said simply. "Especially since I am hoping you might be willing to continue our discussions? I think you have won me over in terms of books."

Enjolras could not stop himself from smiling, "Éponine I shall be delighted to continue with our talks. I was not looking forward to the prospect of being by myself in a convent if I am to be frank."

"I am very glad to hear you say that… But there is one more thing I should mention if I were to come…" Éponine steeled herself for a moment before she relayed the next part, "_Monsieur_ Combeferre told me that the convent where we are going is very strict. He said that _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent would be able to convince them to allow your presence, as you would remain mostly in your room, due to your injuries, and so would hardly had a chance to encounter any nuns. He said, however, that they would definitely not permit you to have an unmarried female caretaker… And so if I were to come as well…" Éponine took a deep breath, "I would have to pose as your wife."

Enjolras felt his eyes widen, "Surely, there is another way."

"Yes… I asked if I could perhaps pretend to be your sister, but, well… we look nothing alike, do we? Mind you, I am not certain it is more believable that you would be married to me."

"Why not?" Enjolras asked before he could stop himself.

"Well, because you look like that and I look like this. You have a nobleman's features while I a street urchin's." She said all this quite plainly, without a hint of self-pity, as if it was simply something she had come to believe as true.

This annoyed Enjolras for some reason. He truthfully had never concerned himself with physical appearance. What was inside a person's mind was more fascinating to him. But… If he were to make an effort to consider Éponine's looks… Well, then he would actually find her quite… pleasant-looking… Especially now that she had been well-fed and well-groomed for weeks.

"Éponine, that is preposterous. There is no such thing as a 'nobleman's features' or a 'street urchin's', especially as we have been living under the same conditions for while now. You look like you could be married to anyone you so wish."

Éponine was confused. Did he just compliment her looks? "Even to you, Enjolras? I do not understand. Are you not completely opposed to this arrangement?"

"What does it entail precisely?"

"Well, we might have to share a room... And a bed."

"I see… Do you not— I mean, are you not concerned about your, uh, your reputation, Éponine? I am afraid this society is rather more judgmental of an unmarried woman who shares a man's bed than the opposite."

"Oh, I do not trouble myself over that. The beauty of being poor is that I have no reputation to speak of… I am quite surprised with your line of questioning though, Enjolras. Are you actually quite open to the idea of this ruse? You do not mind… sleeping with me?"

"It is quite an unusual circumstance, certainly, but I think I am above such concerns. What is sleeping, really, than the simple act of resting upon a bed? If you are comfortable with it… then so am I."

Éponine felt rather thrown by his statement. It seemed that Enjolras simply did not comprehend the intimate implication of sharing a bed. She wondered if he… No, she should not go into that line of thought now. "All right… If you are fine with this, then I will come with you, Enjolras."

"Excellent."

She could not help but feel that their relationship had just been undeniably altered and hoped that neither of them would come to regret it.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Okay, so I originally did not plan to go with the Éponine/Enjolras-have-to-pretend-to-be-a-couple thing, but as I researched the convent where Jean Valjean went, I found out that they were ultra conservative, so there was no way the nuns would have let them stay there as unmarried companions.

There were a lot of Combeferre dialogues here and previous part. I do not know what Combeferre is precisely like in canon, but I like to imagine him as someone who is fairly adept at the art of persuasive conversation. While Enjolras' sheer personality and inspiring words command respect and make people want to follow him, I think Combeferre makes a good lieutenant because he knows how to frame his words in such a way that when he talks to people they end up agreeing with him.

Anyway, tell me what you think through review/PM! Or follow/favorite, thank you :-).


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **_Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras. Also features one-sided Marius/Éponine and Enjolras/Grantaire (E/R), as well as Joly/Musichetta/Bahorel, which are all canon anyway.

**Author's Notes: **I read a little bit on the _Petit-Picpus_ convent for this chapter and have adapted the site to the best I could for my purposes. Thanks for the great reviews and for being very patient while fanfic had the issue :-). I had some really wonderful reviews, someone even telling me this fic actually helped in their life, and I also had my very own first condescending flamer to whom I just *eyeroll*. Anyway, to my regular (and hopefully new) readers: Hopefully you find this chapter interesting!

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Combeferre, Enjolras, and Éponine broke the news to Joly and Musichetta over dinner the following night. Combeferre and Joly had helped Enjolras to the dining room, so that all of them could at least share the meal together. They left out _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent's involvement, only saying they had found a trusted gentleman who had agreed to provide them with papers and transport them to the _Petit-Picpus_ convent. They also did not tell them about the ruse that Enjolras and Éponine would have to pull, though Musichetta would get it out of Éponine later anyway.

After dinner, the gents remained talking in the dining room, while Musichetta and Éponine retired to the parlour.

Joly was predictably quite cheerful about the plan, particularly since Enjolras would not have to leave Paris after all and would be accompanied by Éponine.

"Why does that last part matter?" asked Enjolras distractedly.

"Éponine? Well, I am just happy to see you have taken to the company of a _mademoiselle, _ Enjolras. We used to say — that is, Courfeyrac, Prouvaire, and sometimes Bahorel as well — that it would only be a matter of time before a special young lady comes along, who would win you over and prove to us that you are not such a marble statue after all." In his enthusiasm, Joly had failed to notice Combeferre giving him a sign to shut his mouth.

"Win me over? Éponine had not won me over, Joly. She is coming more in a caretaker capacity." But even as he said it, Enjolras knew that it was not true. She was not strictly his _infirmière_… She was his… companion? Student? Follower? Friend? Well, he could not deny that there was something akin to friendship that had developed between them…

"Oh…" Joly did not miss the glare that Combeferre was giving him now. "Pardon me, _mon ami_. I did not mean to be presumptuous, but… would it really be so terrible? You should not underestimate the joy a young lady can bring to your life. And Éponine is a lovely girl, certainly a veritable diamond in the rough, and you already enjoy her company…"

Combeferre internally groaned. This was not the way to ease their former leader into this topic.

Enjolras did indeed look perplexed, "Joly, you know that I am wholly uninterested in romantic relationships. That has not changed. I certainly do not mind being around Éponine, but I have no intention towards her besides friendship. But why do you say this to me? Do you think she might be… _interested_ in me?"

"No, I am sure she feels the same way you do, Enjolras," Combeferre interrupted then, to prevent Joly from putting his mouth into it further. There was no sense in spooking Enjolras from Éponine's company. He changed the subject swiftly, asking Joly to relay the news that he'd heard, regarding the Society for the Rights of Man looking for a pamphlet writer.

"The solitude of the convent may even inspire you to come up with your best work, _mon ami_," Combeferre said encouragingly. "I am certain Éponine would not mind writing for you, while your right arm heals, and then sending it to us. We shall submit it in your name."

They continued to discuss the details then, Combeferre hoping the plan would give Enjolras a sense of much needed purpose in his upcoming exile. Joly participated in the discussion willingly enough, but separately thought that Enjolras would be more uplifted if he would just give himself the opportunity to open his heart out to a young woman…

Meanwhile in the parlour, Musichetta was questioning Éponine regarding how she truly felt about going away with Enjolras.

The younger girl gave her simple, honest assessment, saying she did not mind coming along to help Enjolras, as she had nothing better in her prospects if she were to return to her parents, and that she was looking forward to some more lessons with him. She hesitated before telling Musichetta about the ruse, but decided that the older girl would find out about it eventually anyway.

"You and he shall be sharing a bed?"

"Yes, it may be so."

"And he is fine with that?"

"He does not think sleeping is anything more than resting upon a bed."

"But you know better, Éponine. How do you feel about this?"

"I hope the bed and the room are big enough to give each of us space."

Musichetta wondered if she should persuade Éponine to pursue something romantic with the revolutionary leader, as they seemed to have a peculiar connection. The first time she tried to broach the subject though, the girl seemed quite oblivious. Of course that was prior to Marius' visit... But if Musichetta could select anyone to whom Éponine should redirect her attention, it would not be the so-called marble man. She might very well end up with a worse broken heart than Marius. And so with this line of thought, Musichetta decided to leave it alone. If anything were to develop between them, it would happen without her direct interference.

"Well I suppose out of any man you could possibly wish to share your bed for just sleeping, Enjolras would be one you could trust to be gallant," Musichetta finally said.

"Yes, that is true," Éponine smiled with amusement. "His favorite activity in bed seems to be reading."

Musichetta was suddenly struck by inspiration. If she could not interfere directly, then perhaps she could do it indirectly...

"Éponine, as you seem to be recent a book convert, I wonder if you are familiar with the story of your namesake?"

"_Maman_ said she was a romantic figure from history?"

"Yes, my mother told me of seeing _Éponine et Sabinus_ at the Opera. It is indeed such a romantic and rather tragic story. But I shall not spoil you of it. I believe the tale was also written into a book. I shall hunt around for it and give it to you as a parting gift, though mind you, I expect to be able to come and visit, so it shall not be parting between us after all. I trust the nuns would not object to you having a female visitor…"

* * *

On the day of their departure, _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent arrived precisely at the agreed time. Combeferre had made sure his home was free from any of his medical visitors, as he and Joly helped Enjolras down to the _Monsieur_'s carriage. Éponine and Musichetta followed quickly behind the gents, carrying between them a trunk filled with Enjolras' books, clothes, and other items. Éponine's possessions — her clothes, notebook, the book that Musichetta promised — could fit into one satchel, which she carried on her shoulder. They had to complete the entire process as rapidly and as inconspicuously as possible so as to not attract the attention of nosy neighbors.

Combeferre, Joly, and Musichetta bid them a swift _adieu_ from the street. Before Enjolras and Éponine could fully register the reality that they would not likely see their friends for a while on this self-imposed exile, their coach was off.

They turned to greet Enjolras' savior and current carriage companion, _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent. The three of them discussed the plans for a while to ensure that they were on the same page. If their identities were checked while traveling, Éponine would use Cosette's papers and pose as the _Monsieur_'s daughter, with Enjolras as her fiancé, using one of Valjean's earlier identities. In the convent, it would be almost the other way around, as the nuns knew Cosette.

_Monsieur_ Fauchelevent had written ahead, telling them that he was coming with his grandson, Émile — in fact, Cosette's supposed older brother — and Émile's wife. The story that he presented to them was that his grandson had spent much of his adolescence in military school while his sister Cosette was in the convent. His unit was called in to suppress the recent rebellion and he was wounded at one of the barricades as a result. Valjean thought that this way, at least his injuries would fit with the timeline. Émile and his wife had decided to keep his grandfather company at the convent while he also recuperated from his wounds.

Enjolras felt suitably amused by the irony that he would have to pose as a soldier, while Éponine could not help thinking that Cosette indeed looked like she would be believable as Enjolras' sister... 'The lark' had grown up to be such a beauty that she could pass for noble-born, just like Enjolras… Just like Marius…

Once they had finished with their discussion, all three fell silent, each alone with their thoughts.

Éponine studied _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent. Her heart went out to him. He looked suitably forlorn, having left his daughter today for the last time… She remembered when he came to take Cosette away… She wondered whether he recognized her now. As a child, she was not kind to Cosette and hoped the _Monsieur_ would not hold it against her… At the time, she had no particular opinion about Cosette being taken away, but knowing how much her fate and 'the lark's diverged, she wished now that perhaps he had taken her away too… How different would her life have been if she were this _Monsieur_'s daughter and not her father's? Well… _Monsieur _Fauchelevent was taking _her_ away now and claiming _her _to be his daughter, was he not? Fate sure had an odd sense of humor.

Enjolras, meanwhile, was working out something in his head… _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent looked vaguely familiar to him… He wracked his brain for where he had seen him before… It was relatively recent… And significant…

Finally, he remembered him as the volunteer who saved his life at the barricade and asked for Javert's life in return. He had neglected to look into his savior's fate afterwards. It could not have been an accident that Cosette's father was there at the barricade. He must have been there for Marius…

He must have been the one to get Marius out.

So this man not only saved Pontmercy's life, but he also secured Marius' happiness with his daughter by taking himself and his criminal past away from their lives. If Marius only knew precisely what this man did for him…

Enjolras hoped that he could find some time alone with the _Monsieur_ later to firstly thank him for saving his life twice and then to discuss what he did for Marius. Perhaps it was not too late for Pontmercy to welcome him into the family that he would start with Cosette.

* * *

As it turned out, the trip unfolded without obstacle and they arrived at the convent in good time. The prioress had arranged for the current gardener to help Éponine escort Enjolras to their room, while the coach driver and Valjean, who was still quite strong despite his age, handled their baggage. As predicted, they were to be provided with two rooms, one for Valjean and one for the couple.

Once Enjolras and their baggage were settled, Valjean and Éponine met with the prioress for their welcoming. She started by listing the ground rules, which were entirely as they had expected, the primary one being that the men needed to keep out of sight of the nuns and their students at the boarding school. _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent, who was a prior gardener here, was to be provided with limited liberties to sit and enjoy the garden on certain mornings and afternoons while the sisters were teaching at school or in prayers. Éponine had access to their kitchen and was free to prepare her own meals, if she so wished, to take to her husband. Otherwise, they might eat the same food that was prepared by their cook. Finally, the head nun ran through the convent's schedule, which was stricter than Éponine could have imagined, and urged them to keep it in mind while they conducted their activities.

After the prioress departed, _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent bid Éponine farewell as well. He was going to take a walk with the current gardener to inspect the grounds.

Éponine walked in to the room that she would share with Enjolras to see him seated on the bed. She told him what the nun had said while she inspected the room.

It was simply furnished, as she suspected, but it was bigger than she expected. There was a stern-looking bed, a desk, a couple of chairs, and a bookshelf. The one window, against which the desk was placed, overlooked nothing in particular, but it was large enough to give the room sufficient light during the day.

"It is not bad for convent lodging, is it?" she said.

"Yes, I think this will do for a while. _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent asked me to tell you that the trunk over there is for you." He pointed to a piece of luggage in the corner.

Éponine opened it and found that it surprisingly contained a folding screen, which was quite ornate and beautiful that she supposed it must have belonged to Cosette. She was very grateful and relieved for the thoughtful gift, as she could use it to preserve her modesty while changing. _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent must have guessed that she would need it, given that she was sharing a room with a man who was neither her husband nor her lover.

"I hope you don't mind that I have taken the right side of the bed. Do you have a preference?" Enjolras asked while she was putting up the screen in such a way to cordon off one corner of the room.

"No," said Éponine with much amusement, coming out from behind the screen. "I have never had a bed large enough to have a side-of-the-bed, Enjolras." She looked at the side that was allotted to her. It looked spacious enough for her to be able to sleep without touching him. Not having a decent place to sleep for many years had also conditioned her to slumber without moving too much. As to Enjolras... Well, she soon would find out what kind of sleeper he was, wouldn't she? She hoped he would be able to remain on his side of the bed…

He noticed her staring at the empty side — her side — of the bed. He hoped she did not move much in her sleep… He wondered how he himself would take to this sleeping arrangement, as the truth was, Éponine would be the first person with whom he would share his bed. Growing up as a wealthy only child and then thoroughly dismissing romance for his entire adolescence and adulthood meant that he did not know what it felt like to sleep with someone… Well, he was about to find out tonight, would he not?

"So what shall we do now, Enjolras? Do you want to eat something?"

Enjolras found that he was indeed a bit hungry, so she went on an expedition to the convent kitchen to find him some food. The elderly nun who was there told her that she could take several bowls for her husband, her grandfather-in-law, and herself if she would like.

She took a tray to _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent's room and left it on a table when she knocked and saw that he had not yet returned from his walk, as his baggage was still unpacked. She would find him tomorrow to thank him for the trunk and the folding screen.

Over dinner, Enjolras and Éponine discussed what they should do tomorrow. Enjolras mentioned that he would very much like an opportunity to speak to _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent privately if she could arrange it. She said that she would try to find him early in the morning to relay the message. The two of them could talk in here while she cooked them their meals. The convent food was not very good after all, since the nuns abstained from meat. She might also explore the surrounding area to see where she might acquire additional groceries. Enjolras asked if she might need some money. She saw that unlike _Monsieur_ Combeferre, he only gave her what she said she'd need, which she appreciated, as she did not wish to be secretly paid by Enjolras as well.

They then turned their attention to her lesson plans. They were still focusing primarily on _Émile_, which was coincidentally his alias here at the convent (Éponine suspected Enjolras chose it with the book in mind), but he had also thought of more books that she could go into next, some of which he already owned and some he did not. He would make a list for her if by some chance she encountered a bookshop nearby.

After dinner had been cleared and they had both washed up, she helped him unpack his suitcase, putting away his books on the shelf. As it was quite late by the time they finished, Éponine thought they should get ready for bed. She wondered how she might approach this… Normally, _Monsieur _Combeferre helped Enjolras to change out of his clothes. However, he currently did not look like he wanted to sleep anytime soon, as he was just sitting there on his side of the bed, reading his book. Well, she supposed he might ask for her help if he needed to…

She walked over to the bed and sat down on her side, reaching behind her to loosen her corset. Enjolras did not even look up from his book, but she felt very peculiar indeed as she rested her back against the headboard, still in a seated position, next to him. She thought she might mimic him and read for a while until she at least felt settled enough to sleep. She could continue with _Julie_, which she no longer read out loud to Enjolras ever since he'd been able read by himself again, or she could start _Éponine et Sabinus_, which Musichetta gifted to her today. She decided on the latter.

She was only a couple of pages in when she felt suddenly very tired, her eyes barely remaining open. She put her book away and extinguished the light on her side, sinking down from her sitting position to rest her head on the pillow. She purposely lay on her side, her back towards Enjolras.

"Are you sleeping in your clothes?"

She turned to see him staring down at her, "Yes… How do you suppose I normally sleep?"

"Do you not have a sleepshirt?"

"No, I have been sleeping in _Monsieur_ Combeferre's living room. I did not think it would be decent for me to wear one… Not that I own one."

"Oh. Well, you are sleeping on a bed now. You can have one of mine if you'd like."

Éponine wondered if he was jesting. He would be fine with her sleeping next to him in nothing but his sleepshirt? Enjolras was certainly an unusual man... Or perhaps she should start feeling insulted that he was so unaffected by her... _feminine_ presence. She turned her back towards him again, "I think I will be more comfortable in my clothes."

Enjolras shrugged. He was about to return to his book when something occurred to him… Something that had occurred to Éponine much earlier… He looked at the girl, who had not moved and looked to be falling asleep. Should he?

"Éponine…"

"Yes?"

"Would you be comfortable if _I_ slept in a sleepshirt?"

She turned slowly towards him, "Well… If that is how you normally sleep, then you should continue to sleep that way."

"I would need assistance while changing..." Enjolras once again cursed his current predicament. He despised feeling physically helpless and even _he_ knew that asking a young woman to assist him to change clothes was not proper behavior. But… they were already sharing a bed, were they not? He just hoped Éponine would not be too embarrassed by it…

Éponine gazed up at him with an unsure expression and said tentatively, "If you are fine with me helping you to change, then I shall help you."

"Please… But only if it is not an imposition on you… I am fine with it."

"All right."

She got out of bed and searched for the sleepshirt in his trunk, while he started unbuttoning his shirt. She helped him pull the shirt over his head and past the cast on his right arm, desperately not trying to think about how surreal it was for her to be sharing this level of intimacy with Enjolras, out of all people. However, if she were to go into this trade in the future, she would have to get used to it and treat him simply like a patient.

In spite of herself though, she noticed his nice, pale, well-defined chest immediately… And the scar from the bullet wound on his left shoulder. It did not look too different from what she had on _her_ chest…

She realized she had been staring and snapped out of it quickly to see him looking up at her with a rather… worried expression? Why was he worried? She hoped he did not think he was… _taking her innocence_ somehow… Before she could think it through, she said to him, "Do not fret, Enjolras. Yours is not the first naked man's chest I've encountered."

Enjolras was too stunned to say anything. Éponine wanted to kick herself. Oh, that was the worst thing she could have said. She felt herself blushing, so she quickly assisted him to slip on the nightshirt.

She asked him whether there was anything else… Did he perhaps want help… taking off his trousers too? He said no, he would sleep with them tonight. She nodded, folding his shirt and placing it on top of the trunk.

Terrific, she thought. What a caretaker she would make. She had succeeded in embarrassing him with her improper comment.

She made her way back to bed swiftly, thoroughly avoiding his eyes. Yes, this living situation would be very interesting indeed, thought Éponine. She lay back down with her back to him again and closed her eyes, determinedly not thinking about his nice, well-sculpted chest...

She felt the mattress shifted and the light going out from his side of the bed. It seemed that he had given up on reading as well. In the dark, though he was not touching her, she could feel his body heat from somewhere near her back. Yes, it had indeed been quite a while since she shared a bed with a man… This would not be easy.

"Good night, Éponine," he said finally.

"Good night, Enjolras," she replied rather shakily, hoping sleep would come swiftly.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Hopefully you didn't find anyone too wildly out of character in this chapter. I had my doubts, while writing this, but decided at the end that this would be the natural progression for É/E's dynamics, given the situation they were in. Nothing like forced intimacy to create some tension, eh?

If you like Combeferre, Joly, or Musichetta, do not worry. They won't disappear from the story for long.

Let me know of what you think by reviewing or PM if you so wish. Or favorite/follow, please! Thank you!


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **_Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras. Also features one-sided Marius/Éponine and Enjolras/Grantaire (E/R), as well as Joly/Musichetta/Bahorel, which are all canon anyway.

**Author's Notes: **Thanks for all the lovely reviews and new follows/faves! Glad you enjoyed the, uh, sexual tension I finally introduced to the fic ;-). I can tell you that it is my favorite thing to write in a story (and I am in fact more of a humor writer, which is why the all the angst in this fic has been challenging but also good for me to write). **MidniteMasquerade**, you wanted to know about the bathing situation? :-) Hopefully it's answered here. Enjoy, dear readers!

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Éponine was to find to her relief that Enjolras was a still sleeper after all. He lay on his back all night and did not seem to move at all. She awoke before him, thankfully still finding herself to be lying on her side near the edge of the bed. She quickly peeked behind her to see him still in slumber, his chest rising and falling softly, his left arm across his stomach, his right on his side. He looked very much like how she found him on that first day after the barricade, completely still and statue-like.

She got out of bed slowly, so as to not disturb the mattress too much. It seemed that it was still quite early. There was only fade light peeking in from underneath the curtains. She wondered if he would remain sleeping for a while. If so, she would use the opportunity to wash up and change.

She exited the room to fetch a water basin. There was already a nest of activities around the convent, as the nuns conducted their morning routine, praying in the chapel, taking their meagre breakfast, and rushing off to the boarding school. On her way back, she encountered _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent as he was leaving his room.

She conveyed her gratitude for the gifts he gave her and mentioned that Enjolras, who was now still asleep, would like a private word later if the _Monsieur_ could spare the time.

Valjean hesitated, suspecting that the other man had somehow worked out that he was the soldier in disguise at the barricade. However, there really was nothing Enjolras could do with that information and he supposed there was no harm in talking to him, so he agreed, asking the girl to come fetch him from underneath a certain tree in the garden when Enjolras was ready.

Éponine came back to her room to see that Enjolras had still not risen, so she quickly carried the basin to her spot behind the screen.

She hurriedly undressed and scrubbed herself. As she sat there, she contemplated how she would go about this... Enjolras would need assistance to bathe, but would he tolerate her seeing him... naked? Would she? She could not help but notice that he was an attractive man... She had always known it, she supposed — she was not blind — but for some reason it never really registered in her mind or mattered to her, because she had never considered the prospect of being in an _intimate_ setting with him.

Nevertheless, if she indeed wanted to do this as a trade in the future, she could not afford to become flustered every time she had to care for someone _physically attractive_...

Perhaps she should just be direct and ask him what was... comfortable for him. She would need to concentrate on not blushing though, because even now, the thought of seeing him in the nude was enough to make her feel hot behind the neck.

She finished swiftly and re-dressed in fresh clothes. She took a peek from behind the screen. Enjolras was still in slumber. She took the basin outside to re-fill it with fresh water.

She returned as he was finally rising. He still looked as good as he normally did, completely fresh-faced and alert, as if thoroughly untouched by the sluggishness of sleep.

"Good morning, Enjolras."

"Good morning, Éponine. Have you been up long?"

"No, half hour or so. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, indeed." He was surprised to find that he slept easily with Éponine next to him. She barely moved all night, though her slight body did not take up much space on the bed anyway. And there _was_ that peculiar feeling of having another person's warmth very close to him... It was something he'd never experienced before. Remarkably, he did not find it unpleasant... "How was your sleep?"

"It was fine," Éponine in fact did not fall asleep easily last night and perhaps woke up earlier than normal. "I've spoken to _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent. He said he would come talk to you whenever you are ready."

"Thank you."

She walked over to open the curtains and the window, bringing some light and fresh air into the room. "Enjolras," she started hesitantly, wringing her hands together. "That was improper what I said last night. I am sorry."

"No, you have nothing to be sorry about, Éponine. I apologize. I should not have imposed on you."

"It is not an imposition. I am here to help you, Enjolras... But I shall leave it up to you. I will help you with whatever you feel comfortable..."

"Well, there are certain things I can manage by myself... My right arm no longer need to be in a sling, so I have some mobility there. My right leg is rather more restricted, but I can put weight perfectly well on my left, so if I lean upon this desk, I can stand... It will be time-consuming, but I believe I can disrobe and clothe myself. I possibly only need your assistance with certain other tasks..."

He then listed off a number of things he would need. She nodded, moving some items to within his reach and making a mental note on others she would have to get him from the outside.

"I think I can do that, Enjolras. I have fetched you some fresh water over there. But I shall acquire another basin and fill it with warm water." The time it would take for her to heat it up would also give him some privacy here.

When she returned, she made sure to knock before re-entering. She found him seated on the desk chair, completely bare from the waist up... and apparently also the waist down, though his... hip area was covered with a sheet.

Éponine made a conscious effort to avert her eyes from any nakedness as she brought the water over to him. She was proud to say that there was not a hint of blush on her face and she had in fact succeeded in arranging her expression to resemble one who was looking at a particularly dull piece of painting.

If she were to co-exist companionably with Enjolras in these small quarters, she could not let him clue in to the fact that she found him… somewhat _physically appealing_... She was not one for superficiality (she could claim with certainty that, though Marius was boyishly handsome, it was not the reason she fell in love with him), so she expected to get over… whatever this was rather quickly without needing to make the situation awkward for him.

"Shall I leave then?" she asked with controlled calmness.

He also watched her face. She seemed to have overcome whatever nervousness she felt last night. Perhaps she was above this awkwardness after all... In the entire time that he had known her, Éponine had in fact never behaved like how he found young women tended to behave around him (the latter was why he generally avoided the female company altogether). He saw no reason why this would have changed for Éponine. If he were to live with her for a while, he could not be too proud to ask for her help. She was there to assist him after all...

"Actually, if it does not bother you… Could you perhaps stay… and help me… with my back? I cannot quite manage it."

Though her expression did not break, Éponine internally cursed herself. He was testing her, wasn't he? Could she refuse? Would that suggest to him that she was uncomfortable to be around him? Should she just push on and do this for him? Perhaps if she conditioned herself to be around his…. _physicality_ more, she would find herself less... susceptible to its effects on her?

"If you wish me to."

Éponine went around to stand behind him. She was very relieved that, at least in this position, he would not be able to see her face. She told him to lean forward a little and took the washcloth from the warm water basin, wiping it across his pale skin as businesslike as she could manage. She could not avoid getting a full view of his back though… those nice muscles at the back of his neck, expanding out to his shoulders, the left of which had a scar from where the bullet exited, the dip along his spine that went down towards that curve...

And she just realized she had been slowing the movement of her hand dangerously low on his back as she found herself mesmerized… She pulled her hand back promptly.

"All done."

"Thank you, Éponine."

She composed herself, putting on a relaxed smile, as she came around to face him again, "Anything else?"

"If you could perhaps move the other basin to near my left foot?"

Éponine obliged. After that, she was grateful to find that he was done with her, saying that he could manage the rest if she would perhaps give him half hour before fetching _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent. He would need time to do Combeferre's prescribed exercises, he said.

Éponine nodded, quickly grabbing one of her books as she left the room. Perhaps she could do a bit of reading to calm herself... Perhaps _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent would not mind the company.

She found him under the tree that he indicated, not doing anything much other than staring into the variety of plants and flowers around him.

"May I join you, _Monsieur_?" she asked politely.

"Please," he replied without much energy.

She told him what Enjolras had said. The _Monsieur_ just nodded, but he did not seem to be up for conversation, so Éponine just left it there and turned towards her book.

In her haste, she had picked up _Julie_. The romantic material was certainly not the best thing for her to read right now. She gave up on it after a few minutes, electing to take in the greenery like her supposed grandfather-in-law.

It really was beautiful here. The convent might be a crumbling structure, but the garden really was beautiful. She could understand why the _Monsieur_ had chosen to spend the final part of his life here.

* * *

When _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent finally knocked on his door, Enjolras had finished with his grooming and was dressed in fresh clothes.

Éponine came in as well to drop off a book, but then left to prepare their breakfast.

The two men started by exchanging pleasantries, Enjolras thanking the _Monsieur_ for allowing him to come into hiding with him. _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent only nodded and did not say anything further. As Enjolras was never one to waste words, he delved into the topic he wanted to discuss immediately.

"I also thank you, _Monsieur_, for saving my life at the barricade."

"You recognize me then."

"Indeed. I am surprised Marius did not."

"I suspect his mind was preoccupied with the prospect of never seeing my daughter again. I heard his lament that night."

"Is that why you came to the barricade? To save him? It was indeed you who saved him, was it not?"

"Yes, I took him away to safety, but no, I initially did not have the truest of intentions when I arrived. I wanted to see the man who sought to take my daughter away... Perhaps I even wanted to ensure that he died there, so that he would never have the opportunity... But when I realized how Cosette's heart would break if Marius were to perish, I had to save him."

"That is a most noble thing you did, _Monsieur_. And yet… Marius does not know it."

"It does not matter. I am at the end of my days and can only bring danger to Cosette's life. Marius loves my daughter and will be able to provide the safety that I cannot."

"Yes, but… it does not seem fair, _Monsieur_. You do not deserve to spend the last part of your life alone."

"I am afraid fairness does not come into one's consideration when love is involved, _Monsieur_ Enjolras. It is my last wish to secure Cosette's future happiness."

"I have asked to come speak with you today so that I may perhaps persuade you to re-consider your decision. It is not too late for you — or even me, if you wish — to advise Marius of the truth. You may yet spend your final days beside your daughter. If you are concerned about the risk of exposure, I am certain they will be able to come stay here in the convent or nearby."

"I appreciate your concern, _Monsieur_ Enjolras... But I would rather leave this world with the absolute certainty that Cosette would not be harmed by my past."

Enjolras gave it some thought, but then nodded, "Then I respect your decision, _Monsieur_. I will not interfere in your business and this will be the last that I speak of it."

"Thank you."

The two gentlemen conversed for a while then, Valjean finally imparting to Enjolras his true identity, as the latter struck him as a man who kept his word. Enjolras was almost disgusted by what the law deemed as criminal activities and why this _Monsieur_ was pursued. Jean Valjean's only crimes were stealing bread and then breaking parole. This country was in serious need of legal reforms. But he kept these thoughts to himself, as it would be indelicate for him to use this man's personal experience to convey his political agenda. They were finally interrupted by Éponine, who came in with breakfast.

She apologized for the simple meal, as the convent did not have much material she could use. She would go out to purchase additional foodstuffs after this. The men dismissed her concerns and the three of them took their breakfast together in companionable air.

* * *

Much later that day, when Éponine had gone to the market and dropped off their dirty clothes at a nearby laundress, she and Enjolras sat down together for their lesson.

Enjolras had opted for a simple bread and cheese luncheon, as he would rather spend their time in discussion than eating another meal, so he was nibbling at a piece of crust while he listened to Éponine reading out a passage.

Éponine was curious to find that she was not quite attracted to Enjolras in this setting and was able to interact with him much like she had before.

It was as if there were two of him... The leader, tutor, intellectual, whose company she enjoyed but whose connection to her was cordial and at an almost more mental level... And then there was the man, the vulnerable patient and pretend husband, whose physical appearance — against the backdrop of the intimate setting that was imposed upon the two of them — certainly appealed to her at a more instinctive level...

All this she jotted down in her notebook later on that night when the two of them were in bed again. She would have been uneasy with writing about Enjolras, when the man himself was sitting next to her, but he seemed thoroughly untroubled by her presence as he pored over several tomes on his lap.

After she was done, she washed off the ink from her hands and then climbed back into bed with a book. She would attempt to read _Éponine et Sabinus_ again.

But much like last night — and perhaps also due to the lack of sleep from the night before — Éponine had only managed to go through a few pages before her eyes grew weary and she fell asleep with her book still open next to her.

Enjolras did not notice until he too was ready for sleep and called her name several times without a response. Not wishing to wake her, he reached over gingerly and took the book off her hands to put it away. He smiled amusedly at the title. Éponine sure had a taste for the romantics. But he supposed it was good for her to learn the story of her namesake, especially since the woman and her husband Sabinus were quite inspirational revolutionary figures.

The only thing left was the light on her side. It would take a mighty effort for him to get out of bed and limp to other side, but he could not very well leave the light on all night… He had no choice but to try and reach over her to turn it off.

He inched himself as close to Éponine as possible without disturbing her. Having nothing really upon which he could brace himself, he stretched his left arm over her sleeping figure towards the lamp. He could not quite reach it. He was possibly five centimeters off. If he could press himself upon Éponine's back more, perhaps...

He was thinking that he did not wish to knock the lamp off and cause a fire, when he lost his balance... and completely fell on Éponine's sleeping figure, startling her awake.

Éponine, who did not recall falling asleep, was shocked — to say the least — to find Enjolras suddenly splayed across her midsection.

"I am quite sorry, Éponine. You had fallen asleep and I was trying to douse the lamp on your side, but I could not quite reach it…" He was struggling to get up, as he had nowhere with which he could push himself off other than Éponine's body.

"That's quite all right, Enjolras," she said in a shaky voice, having regained her breath. She grabbed hold of his shoulders and pushed him gently off of her... chest area.

He got back to a sitting position and turned towards her with a concerned expression. "You are not hurt, I hope. I apologize again, Éponine."

"I'm fine, Enjolras. Just a bit startled," she was trying to calm her pounding heart. "I am sorry too. I should not have fallen asleep without turning off the light. You should wake me next time it happens."

"Yes, I was trying to avoid that, but made the situation worse instead… That must have been quite a shock I gave you!" And in spite of himself... he began to laugh.

Éponine could not recall ever seeing Enjolras laugh… He was a thoroughly serious young man, was he not? It made her feel rather special that she got to see this rare side of him. She started laughing as well. She felt lightheaded and the genial mood tempted her to tease him, "Yes, well, I never would have expected to wake up with _you_ on top of me, Enjolras."

She might very well have put her mouth into it again. And she could have felt embarrassed like last night, but somehow she enjoyed seeing him a little bit flustered… Was that even a blush creeping on his cheeks?

"And with that, I think it is time for us to get some sleep," Éponine quickly said before he apologized again. "Good night."

"Good night."

She snuffed out the light quickly… and lay there in the dark knowing that sleep would not come soon. Once again, she was fully aware of him lying next to her and could not stop herself from thinking about how his body might feel against hers…

Yes, this was indeed a peculiar feeling being attracted to Enjolras…

She did not even have the luxury to toss and turn.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Okay, some more sexual tension here, ha ha. Hopefully I've justified Éponine's attraction quite well. I think once confronted with Enjolras' attractiveness in a direct way, such as she has here, she would definitely not be able to miss it.

Enjolras, of course, is a little bit more difficult, as he is more resistant to physical attraction. Hopefully you don't find his thoughts on women as sexist. I am inspired by something Aaron Tveit said when researching for the role. He said that Enjolras thoroughly avoided ladies' glances. So it got me thinking: Why? Is it because he realized his effect on women and did not wish to encourage their attentions? Or it it because he was aware that he _might_ be tempted away from his cause by a woman, so he avoided them altogether? While I think it's possibly more the former, the latter could also be a little bit true.

Here's how I interpret it: Enjolras is quite asexual, so he would actually be able to interact with a man the same way as he would a woman, but because he's physically appealing, women in general tend to not be able to converse with him without somewhat fawning over him or getting their hopes up about the possibility of a romantic future (this may also be governed by how ladies behaved at the time, where it was unlikely for a female to wish to be friends with a man in a platonic manner and to engage him on a purely intellectual level, which would have appealed to Enjolras the most). So to avoid a possible mess, he just ignored women altogether.

Along came Éponine…

Anyway, I should not reveal all my cards yet :-). Hope you enjoyed some more humor in this chapter and didn't find it too out of place.

As always, please review/PM/follow/favorite! _Mille bisous_! xoxo


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **_Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me. I am not a Legal scholar, so please bear with me on this chapter.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for all the nice reviews and new follows/faves! It certainly motivated me to write quicker!

* * *

**Chapter 13**

Over the next few days, Éponine and Enjolras developed somewhat of a routine for life here at the convent. She would rise before him and go out to fill a basin for her wash. Once she was done, she would fetch some more water for him to bathe. She only assisted him when asked and gave him privacy otherwise.

To Éponine's frustration, her physical attraction to Enjolras did not wane after the first day. It was still thankfully only particularly pronounced when they were in an intimate setting though, while helping him bathe or in bed at night, for example. Unfortunately for her, Enjolras was thoroughly oblivious and did not seem to be similarly impacted by her physical presence. If it were possible, he was in fact growing more comfortable with being in _more_ intimate scenarios with her… He had so far consented to her helping him wash his hair, shave his face, and change into his sleep shirt at night. One of these days, he would ask her for a full sponge bath and she would really be in trouble.

After their morning grooming and breakfast, Éponine would go outside the convent walls to purchase groceries, deposit their dirty clothes at the laundress, and run any other errands for Enjolras or _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent. During this time, Enjolras would occupy himself with books or — if he could manage it — with conversations with Jean Valjean.

Perhaps it was because the man had declined his attempt to help him reconcile with Marius and Cosette, but Enjolras found himself somehow responsible for Valjean's wellbeing, as if he could not let the old man spend the remaining part of his life alone. If he could not have his daughter by his side, perhaps Enjolras could provide some valued company.

But it was not a one-sided act of altruism on Enjolras' part. He truly enjoyed speaking with _Monsieur _Valjean. The man had a fascinating and mostly miserable life, which was largely due to bad luck, but also a product of the society he was in. Still, Valjean spoke at length about how his fate was amazingly turned around when Cosette and this convent figured into it. It was as if he was reborn and given a second chance at salvation, the first being when he encountered that Bishop so many years ago...

Enjolras found the talks of redemption quite inspiring and helped him develop ideas for the pamphlet that Combeferre and Joly would help submit for him. He would require Éponine's assistance to write it down though. This she usually did after luncheon, during their daily study session, or in the evening after dinner, depending on the mood of the day.

Because tract writing required very specific language with a variety of words that were not the easiest to spell for Éponine, Enjolras had to come up with a way to save time on his dictation. He supposed he could just allow her to write it without much interference and let Combeferre or Joly correct the spelling and grammar later when they receive the manuscript, but Enjolras wanted to ensure his point come across as precisely and as accurately as possible.

So he had taken to looking over Éponine's shoulder as she took his dictation. They did this by dragging the two chairs to the desk and placing them very close together, as the table was only long enough to accommodate one, really. Éponine would sit on the chair on the left, which was pulled right up to the desk, while Enjolras sat slightly behind her, his injured arm resting along the right side of the desk, his left across the back of her chair. His left leg was practically brushing up against her right one and his head was almost resting on her right shoulder as he dictated his speech and read over her writing.

Éponine wanted to hate this arrangement. It was bad enough that she could barely keep a cool exterior when she had to get into bed with him or help him bathe, but the intimacy was now invading the previously quite sterile environment of her studies as well.

Perhaps it was the reason why she was struggling so much with her spelling. She had actually improved tremendously since that very first lesson in _Monsieur_ Combeferre's spare room. But now... How was she to concentrate when she could feel his warm breath on her cheek as he leaned in to check her spelling? She tried pulling her right thigh away from being pressed up against his, but there was nowhere to go in the cramped setting.

Still, she said she _wanted_ to hate this set-up because the truth was... there was a part of her that enjoyed it... She just could not believe that Enjolras was as unaffected by her as she was with him. The thought annoyed more than depressed her.

Unbeknownst to Éponine, Enjolras was in fact not as impervious as she perceived... Un-beckoned to his mind one day came a fleeting thought that Éponine smelled nice… It was not perfume, like his mother would use — she being the only woman with whom he had ever been in close proximity for an extended period of time — it was more like a pleasant scent that was a mixture of soap and just... _her_. Did all women smell like this? He had been trying to figure out what the scent reminded him of when he realized that he was being distracted from the task at hand by such a pointless musing. It was such a quick, momentary diversion, but he found himself wondering why he had been thinking about it in the first place...

Éponine, meanwhile, tried to divert her mind away from anything to do with Enjolras' physicality by staring at the words in front of her and concentrating doubly hard on their meaning.

She surmised that he was writing about law reforms, especially focusing on the prison system. He was saying that he did not intend to be lenient on crime, but he believed that the focus for the prisons should not be on punishment, which also must be reformed to fit the crime (five years were excessive for a simple thievery of bread, for example), but on rehabilitation. The concept of parole should not be used to mark a criminal for life, forcing them to carry a yellow passport that prevented them from finding easy work, but should be used to provide those who had definitively passed rehabilitation an opportunity to set their life straight.

At that point Éponine looked at Enjolras in surprise, momentarily forgetting her recent distraction, "Do you really believe this, Enjolras? That all criminals deserve a second chance?"

"I do believe that every citizen should be equal, so yes, I do. Why? Do you not?"

"Well..." Éponine collected her thoughts and slowly formed her words, "I suppose I would be — what's the word? — 'hypocritical' if I say that I do not believe in it, since that would mean that I too belong in jail, but... does it have to be all or nothing? All criminals or none at all?"

"The law _must_ be consistent, Éponine... But I did also mention that the punishment must fit the crime. A judicial system that would sentence a person five years' imprisonment for stealing bread for his starving sister's family does not deserve to continue unreformed..." Éponine watched him, mesmerized by the fire that always appeared in his eyes whenever he talked of his passion. She wondered who precisely he was referring to, though she thought she had a clue...

Enjolras, meanwhile, was continuing with his current reverie, "And perhaps the motive should also matter to an extent? People who are desperate, who are pushed to criminal activities because they have no other option, because the infrastructure had failed them, had left them at the basest of poverty — both in material and in spirit — they should not be punished as severely as those who commit crimes out of greed or lust or other malicious intent."

"How do you tell the difference?"

He paused, "That is the question, is it not? I am not sure either. People do lie..."

"Perhaps the number of past crimes should be used as a consideration? Career criminals do not tend to drift away from what they know."

"Yes, perhaps... Is that why you are not sure if second chances are for everyone?"

"Yes, I would say so… I doubt any member of the _Patron-Minette_ would turn their lives around if offered a second chance, for example… But I should not pass judgment, as I was acquainted with them once too…" Before Enjolras could ask her more about it though, Éponine moved on, "You also said that parole should be granted only to those who have successfully been rehabilitated... How would that be determined?"

"I suppose it would be the prison administrator and the court..." As usual, Éponine was questioning him on the actual implementation of his plans. He quite appreciated it. "We perhaps also need to reform our wardens and judges, overhaul their way of thinking from delivering punishment strictly according to the letter of the law to identifying those prisoners who have the potential to turn their lives around if given the opportunity."

"Is that through education again then?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Is there anyone you do _not_ wish to educate, Enjolras?" Éponine asked with much amusement.

Enjolras chuckled a little bit, "Well, I used to think that my words were enough to move people to action, that they would see the common sense in my speeches and rise up against their oppressors, but then you came along, Éponine, and make me re-think my approach... And it all seems to come back to education."

"Oh," Éponine felt extremely pleased that she had such an impact on Enjolras. She could not stop the blush that was forming in her cheeks though. To distract him from noticing it, she turned their attention back to his writing, her pen hand poised over the paper, "So what do you want to write next?"

"We should add in everything we just discussed."

"How do you wish to say it?"

"Why don't you help me come up with the words?" He asked kindly. "Some of these thoughts came from you, Éponine. Your voice should go into this tract as well, I think."

"You really think so?"

"Definitely," Enjolras smiled at her encouragingly and for good measure squeezed her left shoulder softly.

He did not notice Éponine being amazed by the physical gesture.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I planned this chapter to be longer, but it ended up being too long, so I split it with the next one, which is already partially written, so hopefully it won't take me long to update. Anyway, tell me what you think! :-) Review/PM/follow/favorite! _Merci_.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **_Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me. I am not a French literary/education/gender studies scholar, so please bear with me on this chapter.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes: **Thanks always for all the nice reviews and new follows/faves! See how quickly I updated?

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Éponine watched Enjolras closely over the next several days. Sometimes she felt him hold on to her hand longer than what was perhaps necessary when she helped him up. Or other times he would press up against her side for a big too long when he inspected her writing. And she could have sworn that he was purposely touching her hair when he tapped his fingers at the back of her chair when she was taking his dictation. But when she catalogued these items in her mind, she felt silly. They were likely to be products of her imagination.

Enjolras had not in fact shown any outright sign that he was in any way impacted by their close proximity. Surprising her even further was the fact that he did not even seem to have an issue with... _touching_ her. She supposed she should have known it ever since that time _Monsieur_ Combeferre walked in on him trying to improve her pen hold…

Was he really such a marble of a man that he was entirely resistant to the female presence?

She was not even sure she wanted... _something_ to develop between her and Enjolras, but it would be comforting to know that she was not the only one struggling with their confined intimacy.

Obviously, she could not talk to him about it, but amazingly it eventually came up in conversation one day anyway while they were discussing _Émile_. Thankfully, as he did not need to dictate anything to her, Enjolras was sitting on the bed while Éponine was at the desk.

They had come to a section of the book where Rousseau talked about the education of Émile's female counterpart, Sophie. Enjolras thought that Éponine would certainly have an opinion on this. So far, she saw similarities between her private education previously at Combeferre's house and now at the convent with Enjolras acting in the role of tutor, and the boy Émile, who was educated by a tutor in the countryside, which was the environment that Rousseau described as ideal.

Nevertheless, she once astutely mentioned that though Rousseau certainly had some very good ideas about the education of a child growing up to be a young man, she wondered whether any of these applied to her, when she was doing her learning as an almost grown woman.

Well, she was about to find out what Rousseau thought about the education of women, would she not?

To his fascination, Éponine did not immediately take offense to Rousseau's claim that women should be 'weak and passive' and are 'made to please and to be in subjection to man'.

"I think…" she said after contemplating it for a while. "I think there are many types of women, so perhaps there are some whose purpose is to please a man? And, since you are very much about _égalité, _Enjolras, maybe there are also men who are there to please a woman? From what I have seen though… Once a man is used to a certain kind of _pleasing_ by a woman, she generally holds the reins of him, sometimes without him realizing it." And then she added with a bashful smile, "Mind you, I have never personally experienced this, so I can only imagine what it truly feels like…"

"Éponine, I do not think he is speaking entirely of... _that kind_ of pleasing."

"Do you not? I am fairly certain he is. Did you not tell me that — which was it? — the Trojan War was fought over a woman? I think men can be fairly simple in their motivations, Enjolras."

And he had indeed imparted to her the story of that war, mentioning Helen of Troy as a catalyst, but he had hoped that Éponine would have been more fascinated by the concept of the Trojan Horse as a military or political tactic, which was his intention, "I believe there were _many_ reasons the Trojan War was fought, Éponine. The woman Helen was just one of them."

"I shall take your word for it. I am just telling you that I have seen men brawl over which one of them would… _retire to bed_ with a particularly _pleasing_ — what was that nice word you used? — _courtesan_."

"So you do not object to being classified by Rousseau — simply because you are a woman — as being made only to please a man?"

"Enjolras…" she started slowly. "To be completely truthful… The only thing I ever desired in recent times was to please Marius. And I use 'please' here with your noble meaning, in the sense that I wished nothing more than to see him happy." She had not spoken about Marius ever since his visit. The wound was still there… but it was healing. She found that she could speak of him without falling into an immediate despair. "So perhaps there was some sense to that statement."

"But Éponine, surely now…" Enjolras hoped he was not being indelicate with his next words, "Surely now that is not the only reason you exist… It is not your whole purpose to find another man and attempt to please him like you did with Marius?"

"No, I suppose, it is not." And she indeed could say with absolute certainty that, despite her current preoccupation with Enjolras' physicality, she was not fixating on him like she had with Marius. "I have yet to find my purpose, Enjolras. It may very well be that I fall in love with another man and seek only to make him happy as well, but it is also likely that my life does not revolve around a man at all. I suppose I should never rule out anything and keep my options open. So, in a sense, you are correct that _Monsieur_ Rousseau is not accurate if he says that all women are meant to please a man only."

"I am very glad to hear you say that because it is certainly one aspect of this Rousseau work with which I do not agree… What do you think of his claim that women should be 'weak and passive'?"

Éponine gave it some thought, "Perhaps 'passive' and 'weak' should not be grouped together, as one can be passive without immediately also weak?"

"Why do you say so?"

"Because I think it takes a different kind of… boldness to submit yourself to another person… to passively accept their will when, as the _Marquis_ de Condorcet said, each person is capable of individual and independent thought."

Enjolras nodded, pleased that she still remembered that first thing she learnt, "But if you think that a person's natural instinct is to not submit themselves to another, then why be passive at all?"

Éponine was quiet for a few moments, trying to organize her thoughts, "Simply because I do not think this world can afford for everyone to be active altogether. If each person has a unique will and they all look to actively push their will on each other, how shall we get anything done? I think some people are meant to be a passive follower. And it does not mean that they are weak… Suppose they find an inspiring leader — such as yourself, Enjolras — that they could get behind… Or, and I know that you do not like to hear this, but perhaps they find someone they love so much that they would sacrifice what they might want for themselves for anything that the other person would want."

Enjolras was quite amazed by her insight, "I am certainly no expert on love, Éponine, but is it not meant to be reciprocal, that you give in to each other equally?"

"Ideally, perhaps… Though, as I said once, you cannot control who you fall in love with, so you may very well find yourself loving someone who does not return the feeling… But even if you have found that 'reciprocal' love, as you mentioned, I still think it is better if one person is active and the other passive."

"Surely you do not believe that it must always be the woman who is passive though?"

"No… I suppose not… I have encountered men who are passive, so I do agree with you that _Monsieur_ Rousseau was perhaps not quite correct when he says that all women must be passive…" And then she could not resist saying the next part… Perhaps to tease him, perhaps because she was simply curious as to what he would say, "For yourself though, Enjolras… And I know that you are not interested in romance, but since you are such an active person, you would definitely benefit from being with a passive woman."

Enjolras was taken by surprise, "I do not believe I would, Éponine. I still do not wish to concern myself with romance, but I do not think I would be very much taken by an entirely passive woman. If it were so, I would have married one of the young women from my childhood. They are certainly educated in the Rousseau way to be perfect, submissive wives."

"You would tolerate a woman who disagrees with your noble opinions and refuses to follow your direction, even when you know that you are correct?"

"I shall be very disappointed in you, Éponine, if you think me such a tyrant. I do not consider myself as always being correct and I highly respect independent thought, so if I were to marry, I would like a wife who might freely express her opinions to me." There was something nagging at the back of his mind… Something telling him that this conversation was too… _close for comfort_, but he was too accomplished at dismissing any thoughts relating to romance and women.

Éponine was watching him with a peculiar expression on her face, "You surely are advanced in your views, Enjolras."

"I rather think them as common sense."

"But you are the exception. I do not believe many men would object to what _Monsieur_ Rousseau says about women's education. And as a matter of fact, I am not sure many women would either. You do realize that the convent we are in also houses a boarding school for girls?"

"Yes, I have been expressly told by Combeferre, _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent, and yourself — when we first arrived — that I am in no way to make myself visible to those students. Judging by that one rule, yes, I do not doubt that the young women here would be educated by the nuns to be God-fearing good wives who would summit to the wills of their husbands."

"How do you think they should be educated?"

"I think women should be given the same education as men. Let them determine for themselves what they wish to do with the knowledge. We should not group one gender together and decide for them what they should or should not know."

"Do you mean for men and women to be schooled together?"

"Yes, I do not subscribe to the belief held by the nuns here or even Rousseau — if you read on — that men and women would distract each other to inefficiency when grouped together. If anything, I believe we as a culture would benefit from the dulling of the divide between the sexes." He was thinking specifically of those young women who used to be his playmates as children, but grew up to be compliant, pretty creatures, whom he found frustratingly dull. He did not blame them; he blamed their education.

"What does _Monsieur_ Rousseau say?" Éponine scanned the page and Enjolras pointed it out to her. Amazingly to Éponine, _Monsieur _Rousseau stated precisely what she had said earlier, which was along the lines of, 'Women so easily stir a man's senses' that men could very well be 'tyrannized over by women.'

"That is exactly what I said, Enjolras! Do you not believe that this is true?" And then she saw the opportunity to ask the question she had been desperate to ask. She felt very shrewd indeed as she said, "You are a man, Enjolras. Surely you have been… _stirred_ by a woman?"

Enjolras looked at her oddly for a bit, wondering why she was asking him this, but he replied with a serious expression, "I do not doubt that physical attraction exists between men and women and it may compel members of either sex, really — not just a man — to be 'tyrannized' by the object of their lust. But as to myself, no, I do not think I have ever been governed by a _stirring_ for a woman."

"Never?" Éponine felt rather disappointed, but also disbelieving and almost… challenged?

"Truthfully, no. As I said, I think we as a society put too much emphasis on gender separation, which lead men and women to be so unaccustomed to each other's company that when physical attraction strikes, it becomes unnecessarily more pronounced."

"So… You think that if both genders are more used to each other, they would not be as controlled by their… _desires_?"

"Yes, I think that is what I am saying."

"Enjolras, I think men and women will always be ruled by their physical attraction to each other, regardless of how much they condition themselves to one another's presence! I do not know how you do it, but I think the time will come yet when you will experience it for yourself."

"I doubt that very much, Éponine."

"Well, since you are open to a woman who disagrees with you, Enjolras, let us agree to disagree on this matter."

Enjolras looked at her with surprise and chuckled a little, "Yes, let us do that, Éponine." That nagging at the back of his brain grew more pronounced, but he once again ignored it, not quite willing to process what it was telling him.

They returned to their lesson then, but Éponine could not stop thinking about their conversation later on, especially the part where he said that the key to be less impacted by physical attraction was to be around the person more.

No wonder he was not struggling as she was! He was possibly viewing her as he would a man by this stage, considering all the time they had been spending together.

But she was not a man. She had features, feminine features that she did not doubt would appeal to a common man. Of course, Enjolras was the furthest thing from a common man… And it was not as if she had other charms like Musichetta, for example.

Speaking of whom, the older girl finally visited Éponine at the convent one morning. Éponine had taken care to arrange it ahead of time with the prioress, as she knew that the convent was impossibly strict with visitors. Thankfully, _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent had had the forethought to request permission for his grandson's _physicians_ to come visit — for Combeferre, Joly, or the surgeon to check and take off Enjolras' casts when the time came — from the moment they first arrived.

Musichetta arrived with good cheer, bringing Éponine more dresses and Enjolras a pack of letters from Combeferre and Joly. She observed the room that Éponine and Enjolras were sharing with much interest. It really was quite small and surprisingly looked like a typical married couple's bedroom. In fact, apart from the folding screen in the corner, there was no sign that the people who inhabited these quarters were nothing but a couple.

As Enjolras was going to converse with _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent anyway in their room, Éponine took Musichetta to the kitchen to prepare some luncheon for the gents. Since the nuns observed strict fasting rules and did not eat between breakfast and dinner, the kitchen was generally abandoned in late morning. This gave the women the privacy to chat.

Seeing as Éponine had never kept a secret from Musichetta, she told her straight away about her current predicament with Enjolras. Musichetta smiled knowingly, fully expecting this to happen, though she was disappointed to hear that it seemed to be one-sided on Éponine's part. The younger girl shared what Enjolras said about physical attraction and his theory that it would be dulled with more time together.

"I suppose, there _might_ be some truth to that," admitted Musichetta.

"Yes, I had thought the same too, but this is not fading for me, Musichetta."

Musichetta felt dread. "Have you… fallen in love with him?" she asked in her gentlest voice. She certainly prayed that the girl had not trapped herself in yet another unrequited love.

Éponine gave it some thought, "No… I do not think so… When I think about him not reciprocating, I feel more… frustrated than broken-hearted. There is not that ache that I felt with Marius."

"Is it because you think he _should_ feel what you are feeling?"

"Yes, perhaps… Or somehow I do not think he is being completely honest with himself… This is confusing for me, Musichetta, as I realize that Enjolras is quite handsome, perhaps even more handsome than Marius, so there is no reason why I think he _should_ be attracted to me, given how I look—"

"I shall stop you right there, Éponine. There is nothing wrong with how you look. In fact, I think you are quite beautiful without you realizing it, which just adds to your appeal. Regardless, do not ever let yourself think that you do not deserve to be desired or loved by a handsome man." Musichetta really was being genuine when she said all this, as Éponine had indeed developed into quite a pretty young woman ever since she was plucked from the barricade.

"Thank you, Musichetta."

"You are welcome."

"What do you think I should do about this situation?"

"I am not sure. What do you wish to happen between the two of you?"

"Nothing, perhaps… I want to get over this… Or I want him to acknowledge that he too is impacted. I wish to prove his theory wrong somehow…"

"That is curious… Well, the easiest way to get over a man is to avoid seeing him. But since you cannot do that— You would not consider leaving, would you?"

"No…" Éponine had truthfully never thought of this option. "Despite everything, he still needs my help. I cannot abandon him."

"All right. If you cannot leave him… then perhaps you should try seducing him?"

Éponine's eyes grew wide, "I cannot do that!"

"Why not?" Musichetta then listed off… _methods_ Éponine might try, but the younger girl seemed too embarrassed to contemplate using them on Enjolras. Éponine did not doubt that they worked for Musichetta on _Monsieur_ Joly — or on most men, really —but Enjolras was so unconventional that she might come across as a fool if she tried them on him.

No, Éponine decided in surrender, perhaps she should just continue with her current interactions with Enjolras and hoped that he was correct… that she would grow so used to him that she could be around him as one would a dull-looking, dull-natured man.

"Well, you never know, Éponine," Musichetta said in an enlivening tone. "You could find that simply being yourself might just be the thing that would conquer him."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Hope you're not disappointed that Éponine said that she's not in love with Enjolras. What I can say about it is that sometimes these characters' thoughts are not entirely reliable… The thing is about these two is that neither one had ever had a relationship quite like the one they have with each other, so perhaps they are not as aware to what they are really feeling…

I know this chapter is sort of more heavy with Rousseau, but I think it's important to get Enjolras talking of women, since none of the character so far knows what he thinks. And I might not have been accurate on Rousseau or _Émile_ (I did read a bit of that section I quoted), but I tried to write it more in terms of how I think E & É would read it, based on their own experiences.

Btw, does anyone know E & É's birthdays? Are the dates ever mentioned?

As always, I am exceedingly motivated by the response I get, so please review/follow/fave! Thanks!


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** Les Misérables and all its associated characters do not belong to me. I am not a French history scholar, so bear with me if you see any glaring inaccuracies.

**Summary: **One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes: **Wow, I think that was the most reviews I've had for a chapter! Thank you so much, guys, I feel so loved :-). You have no idea how much they motivate me to write more! I am especially flattered by some of you, like **theartistprince** and **penulis**, who said that you studied literature and thought that my literary analyses were quite good! My field of study is communications & American history (I did one course on the French Revolution, which I loved), so google & wikipedia are my pals for this fic ;-). You shall see some more of these 'research' results on this chapter. I think this is the longest chapter yet. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 15**

Without realizing it, Éponine and Enjolras had been in the convent for almost a fortnight. Their daily routine continued on rather smoothly, given the circumstances… Éponine found that though she was not growing _less_ attracted to Enjolras, she _was_ getting better at controlling herself in his presence.

Nevertheless, it was very odd to think of him now mostly as a man who was capable of stirring her blood and not the cold marble lover of liberty she first thought him to be… She knew very well from sleeping next to him everyday that Enjolras was actually very… _warm_, perhaps more in body than temperament, but the point was, he was a flesh-and-blood man who was not quite invincible after all, who had vulnerabilities…

In fact, she noticed that he had been looking a little bit melancholy lately… Ever since, in fact, he received those letters that Musichetta delivered from _Messieurs_ Combeferre and Joly. Several times she had wanted to ask him what was wrong, but she did not wish to pry. So she left it alone, thinking that if he wanted to confide in her he would.

She herself had found another person in the convent with whom she could chat. She had made friends with _Madame_ Morel, who was the current gardener's wife and the convent's primary cook. They encountered each other quite often in the kitchen. The _Madame_ was a simple, kindly, middle-aged woman, who at times advised Éponine on her cooking. Éponine was glad to be around another woman with whom she could talk about those silly things that she could not discuss with Enjolras or were too insignificant to be put in a letter to Musichetta.

For instance, she had finally become engrossed in _Éponine et Sabinus. _She thought she knew now why Musichetta gifted it to her, that mischievous woman… As it turned out, her namesake was the wife of a Gallic revolutionary leader whose revolt had failed and who had to fake his own death to avoid capture. The woman Éponine accompanied her husband into hiding, while also leading a double life as a widow.

Yes… Despite the rather uncanny similarities between her current circumstances and her namesake's, which at times did make her feel mightily uncomfortable, Éponine truly enjoyed the tale and shared it eagerly with _Madame_ Morel, who could not read herself but so loved listening to the young girl's romantic stories.

It was not long before the _Madame_ asked about how Éponine came to be married to her 'Émile'. As the _Madame_ had never shown herself to be a busybody, but only seemed genuinely interested in the love tale of a young couple, Éponine quickly made up a story, which — she found to her own amazement — did not stray too far from the truth…

She told her that when she first met Émile, she was actually in love with another soldier in his unit. _Madame_ Morel had indeed heard that _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent's grandson was a lieutenant in the army and that he had been injured during the recent uprising. Yes, Éponine said, her Émile was a natural born leader even without the rank before his name. He commanded a group of young soldiers who were exceedingly loyal to him, perhaps because he was so protective of them. Éponine had been in love with one of them, called Marcellus. She used to dawdle near the barracks, hoping to get a glimpse of Marcellus and perhaps even to talk to him. His lieutenant noticed one day and engaged her in polite conversation to find out what she sought. She told him candidly of her great passion for Marcellus and he suggested that she put her feelings down in a letter, which the Lieutenant could pass on to him… What she did not know at the time was that Marcellus was already engaged to be married to his sweetheart. Émile did not have the heart to break it to her during that first meeting, as Éponine had looked so besotted, so he thought that if he bought some time, if she would continue to talk to him instead of to Marcellus directly, then she might gradually ease off on her feelings… Well, she did indeed continue to visit with Émile, who kept providing her with excuses, relating to their duties, of why Marcellus had not gotten around to replying to her letters. When he eventually told her of the other man's engagement, she found that she was no longer enamored with Marcellus, but had fallen in love with the kind lieutenant instead. One month later, they were married.

_Madame_ Morel sighed and said that that was indeed such a lovely story. Yes, she could see why Éponine loved her Émile very much. Éponine was pleased and felt very mischievous indeed that she had come up with this version of Enjolras, who was tremendously romantic. If he only knew… The thought gave her much amusement. She _should_ probably tell him though, as they needed to get their stories straight on the off chance that _Madame_ Morel ever talked to Enjolras…

But perhaps she should wait until his mood lifted… At the moment, he would not likely find her made-up story quite so delightful… She finally found out what was disturbing him one late night when they were already in bed…

The last few days had been particularly scorching and that night was no exception. Éponine lay there in the pitch-black room wondering how much time she had until daybreak, because it felt like hours since they had extinguished the light and set out to sleep. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, so she could tell that Enjolras was also still awake, whether it was from the temperature or his thoughts, she did not know. He was just lying there though, looking very cool, as if thoroughly unaffected by the heat. She, meanwhile, could no longer tolerate the stuffy, sweltering air of the room for one more second.

"Enjolras?" she said in a small voice.

"Yes?"

"Do you mind if I open the window a little bit? It is too hot in here."

"No, go ahead."

She got up and moved to the other side of the room. She leaned on the desk and pointed her face towards the window once it was open, feeling incredible relief from where the night air breezed over the perspiration on her skin. "Oh, that feels so much better… Do you want to stand here as well, Enjolras? I can help you up."

"No, I am fine, thank you, Éponine."

"Are you not hot?"

"No, this is tolerable to me."

"I do not know how you can stand it, Enjolras. I feel like jumping into a fountain." She grabbed a piece of paper from the desk and used it to fan herself as she walked back towards the bed. She sat down in a cross-legged position facing him, "So if the heat is not the reason you cannot sleep, why are you still awake?"

"As usual, I think I have too many thoughts, Éponine."

"And as usual, I think you should share them."

"Do you really wish to hear this?"

"I have nowhere to go and nothing to do," she replied, echoing what he said to her many nights ago in Combeferre's spare room. She lay back down on the bed on her side facing him. Perhaps if she did not move, her body would steadily cool down now that the window was open.

Enjolras gave her a small chuckle, "Yes, I suppose that is true, isn't it?"

"See? I listen when you talk to me."

"I am very glad to hear it, Éponine…" He looked at her in contemplation, "Do you know what today is?"

"It is... Saturday?"

"No," he had to smile at her. "I mean the date... It is July 14th… It is the anniversary of the seizure of the Bastille and the _Fête de la Fédération_." He then gave her a brief history of the two events, in case she was not quite in touch with her history, which indeed she was not.

He told her that prior to the events at the barricade, there were talks among the Republican leadership of using today — with its great symbolic significance for the people's revolution — as a fall back date. They had always planned to move on Lamarque's death, but if for some reason they failed to gain momentum and had to re-group, they would launch their following attack on July 14th.

They did not anticipate, however, of being so utterly crushed by the government in their initial strike that they currently no longer have the manpower or the arsenal to make any further showing of strength. He had written to Combeferre and Joly, as well as to other Republican contacts he knew had so far evaded capture like him, to see if there was anything being organized for today.

He was disappointed to find that, apart from a few showings at the courts where Republican prisoners were being put to trial, there was nothing quite like the leaders had discussed or planned. It seemed that the entire movement was too depleted and very much in disarray to attempt anything bolder.

Combeferre and Joly themselves were preoccupied with the cholera outbreak that was spreading throughout Paris and which had in fact claimed the life of General Lamarque in the first place. They had volunteered their services at the hospital, as they were obviously not able to admit these patients into their homes.

While Enjolras was glad to hear that his friends were keeping busy, he could not help but feel slightly envious that they were still contributing, perhaps not to the Republican cause in a direct way, but definitely to the plight of the poor, as this disease seemed to strike the slums more so than the mansions. And he knew that even if he were fit, there was likely very little that he could do to rally a mass demonstration to the scale seen just before the barricades, which the government had now taken to calling the 'June rebellion' or the 'Republican insurrection'.

"Do you know why they call it a 'rebellion' or 'insurrection', Éponine? What the difference is between those terms and a 'revolution', which was what we had sought?" he asked her in an almost bitter tone.

"No, tell me."

"A 'revolution' implies that you have succeeded in instilling a fundamental change in power, typically with a quick, bold move. You are now most likely _the_ ruling power. As such, you reward yourself by calling your brave maneuver a 'revolution', and your fellow fighters and yourself 'revolutionaries', which certainly evokes feelings of heroism… A 'rebellion' or an 'insurgency', on the other hand, says that you have pulled perhaps an equally bold move, but you have failed in changing the status quo and unseating the current ruling power. As such, that ruling power is now free to brand you as criminals or 'rebels' or 'insurgents' and your movement a mere 'rebellion' or 'insurrection'… It is _failure_, you see… It is implied in the terms."

Éponine only nodded in understanding, not quite sure what she could say, as she had no control over what the government would label Enjolras and his friends.

"I just feel very… errant, Éponine. I cannot physically lend support to any fight that might still be organized, but even if I could, I do not think there is anything _to which_ I can contribute… If the Republican movement had indeed failed… What do I do with myself? What was the purpose of all those barricades?" And then he added in a softer, almost sorrowful voice, "What was the purpose of my friends dying?"

Enjolras knew that there was perhaps nothing she could say or do that could fully alleviate his disconsolate mood, but he did find that the simple act of telling her, of confiding his worries to a sympathetic ear, was enough to make him feel slightly lighter.

Éponine, meanwhile, was silent for some time. She was very much tempted to reach over and pull him into an embrace… And perhaps comfort him in a way that only a woman could… But she doubted whether that would have the desired effect on Enjolras. So she wracked her brain… This was not something for which she could easily offer the right words. Finally, she decided to go with plain honesty.

"Well… I am not sure I can tell you why your friends died, because I think that is beyond my understanding… But I can say with certainty that _you_ are not still alive for nothing… I realize that being trapped indoors all this time must be _torturous_ for you, Enjolras, especially since you are in your nature a very active person, so I am not surprised that you are feeling rather aimless… But as someone who has been spending much of this time with you, I can tell you that _I_, at least, am very grateful for your company and that you have in fact made quite a difference in _my_ life."

He turned to look at her in surprise but did not say anything.

She steeled herself for what she was about to say next, "I too was feeling quite purposeless after the barricade, not quite sure what I am meant to do, wondering if it was not perhaps better if I had died, because then at least I would have died for Marius, him being the focus of my life for the longest time… But then you offered to teach me your books and basically opened my eyes to… _learning_. I still do not know what I wish to do with it, but you make me feel like I have possibilities… So, I suppose what I am saying is that you have made a difference in _my _life. I know that it is one life, compared to all of France or — what was it you called it? — your _patria_, but it does not make it any less meaningful, especially since you are able to do it when confined to a room, when you are simply sharing what is already in your head with someone."

And then she was struck by inspiration, "In fact, if you wish to know one thing I think you are extremely good at… I think you would make an excellent tutor! Or a teacher. It is not very glamorous, of course, and you would not be impacting as many lives as you would as a revolutionary leader — which of course you are also extremely talented at, so you could always return to it if the cause ever needs you — but the quality of impact that you would have as a teacher would not be something to dismiss."

Enjolras contemplated her words in silence. He felt… What _was_ this? Glad? Flattered? No, it was so much more than that… He felt… _prized_ at hearing Éponine's words. Yes, indeed, her life _was_ only one life, but… it was _hers_ and hearing how much she valued his presence made him feel… _incredible_.

He was always a 'big picture' kind of person… A visionary, who saw grand ideas and sought to overhaul nations. He never considered changing people one by one through interpersonal relationships. It might sound cold, but it seemed like too much of an effort for too insignificant a result.

But he must admit that tonight, hearing Éponine say everything that she said and then suggest those possibilities to him… He did not feel opposed to it. In fact, he saw the feasibility in it…

For once, Enjolras felt that his vocabulary was not extensive enough to convey what he wanted to say to her, "Éponine, I am extremely… _appreciative_ of what you said. Thank you… I am gratified that you place such value in your lessons with me. I can honestly say that the flow of knowledge has not been simply one way from me to you. I feel myself also learning from you. I think you are a good balance for me… Your mind works in an intriguingly practical way. You always question me on how things would work, which I find highly useful, as I often neglect to think about the real applications of my ideas… Your input makes me a better thinker and teacher, Éponine."

To say that Éponine was overwhelmed by his admission would be an understatement… She felt herself blushing profusely and was helpless to do anything about it. She just hoped that the darkness of the room would disguise it. She could also feel her heart hammering inside her chest… She had an overarching desire to kiss him…

The thought threw her a little bit, because — though she had indeed been somewhat… _lusting_ over him for a couple of weeks now — she had never had the urge to do something quite so… _romantic_.

He was looking at her, possibly wondering what she could possibly be thinking…

But there was no sign that _he _wanted to kiss _her_…

So Éponine just gave him a huge smile and placed a hand softly on his arm, "Thank you, Enjolras… You took a chance on me and have been very patient with my education. I am thrilled that you also find our discussions useful… I will continue to help you in any way I can, if you let me."

He nodded and returned her smile, but did not say anything. She pulled her hand back and felt the desire to kiss him passing. Before they could be trapped in an awkward silence, she decided to move the conversation along, "Perhaps this is my 'practical' mind working, Enjolras, but I have been wondering… Since we were talking about possible professions and all… How did you work out that being a revolutionary leader was your career path anyway? It is not precisely something wealthy boys typically grow up to be."

He looked at her in amusement. No one had ever asked him this… Not without an attempt at derision in any case… It was the reason why he hardly ever discussed his upper class background. Many of his friends in fact did not know his family situation. Éponine looked simply curious though, so he told her…

He told her that even as a child, he did not understand why there were people in his house who completed tasks for him, why he never needed to learn them himself, and why he was not required to do those tasks _for_ them in return. It did not seem to make sense to him, for example, that he did not ever have to prepare food for himself when it was an essential part of life that he ate. When he started reading and writing, he was surprised to find that many of those people in his house had instead never been taught, that they themselves did not think it necessary that they learned… He wondered what set him apart from them… Why he got to do the things he did and they must do the things they did… He saw every person as a human being and treated them as such. Though his lessons taught him that he was part of a privileged group called the aristocracy, whose service to society was through their employment of the lower class, he saw no justification on why this had to be so.

His parents were no help. They were not terrible people, but they only ever knew their upper class upbringing and could not comprehend how it could be any other way. They were — as Enjolras said to Éponine in an almost sardonic tone — those 'passive' people that they talked about recently. They both came from old noble families, which survived the Republic and the Napoleonic Empire simply because they were based faraway from Paris and avoided attracting attention to themselves by never making waves. They did not treat the peasants who served them terribly, so none ever had cause to raise arms against them. Still, neither his father nor his mother could fathom it when he started talking about several initiatives that he wished to implement for their workers and other people who lived in the village nearby…

Like Marius' father, Enjolras' father was also an officer in the Napoleonic army, but though he commanded soldiers, the man was not a leader. He had no ambition and only ever wanted a simple life in the country with his family. The irony — as Enjolras told Éponine — was that if his parents had been born peasants, they probably would have accepted their fates without question and would never have sought to improve their lot.

In fact, the only thing Enjolras' grandfather ever taught his father — as a boy growing up at a time of upheaval, which saw the executions of the King and Queen — was that he must ensure that the family legacy lived on, just as they had been for centuries, despite how much the rest of the country wished to change. He tried to teach this to Enjolras before realizing that his son was the worst kind of revolutionary. Nevertheless, they were stuck with the son they had because Enjolras' mother had a complication in her second pregnancy, which was not carried to full term, and lost her ability to conceive.

His mother was a beautiful woman with a quiet and commanding dignity, who was respected among the _beau monde_, though she was unusual because she refused to participate in society gossip. She was especially suited to his father as she only ever desired a quiet life with her husband and son… And she did indeed try her best to connect with Enjolras, though she never quite managed to understand him. As a matter of fact, the book _Julie, or the New Heloise_, which Éponine was continuing to read alongside _Éponine et Sabinus_, was one such attempt by his mother. She had heard him mention Rousseau quite a bit and had gone to purchase one of the man's books as a gift for him. She of course did not realize that her son did not favor Rousseau's romantic works, but Enjolras kept the book anyway out of sentimental appreciation.

"Your parents sound like wonderful people, actually, Enjolras," said Éponine, thinking of her own wretched parents. She was feeling a little bit more sleepy, but also enthralled by Enjolras' story of his childhood and family life. She had a feeling that this was not something he shared with many people and felt privileged indeed that he would share it with her.

"Yes, they are not bad people, which is why I do not dislike them, despite being so entrenched in their station and holding _none_ of the views that I hold." _They certainly would not approve of you, Éponine_, he thought, _of me living with you and playing your husband_…

"Do they know that you have been injured? In fact… What do they know of your revolutionary activities here? I assume they would not be very happy with that?"

"Yes, they would not have… if they had known. I have never been very specific in my correspondence with them. I think they also would rather not know; be more comforted in their ignorance, I suppose… They probably suspect that I would be involved in _some_ kind of revolutionary activities, but they have no clue that I would go to such an extreme as leading my own society of students. When the barricades fell… I told them that I was not in Paris, since I do not think even _they_ could trust me not to have been involved at all, had I been in the city."

"Where do they think you were?"

"I told them that I had been offered to go with a professor and a few other students to visit our newly established colony in Algeria."

"Algeria? That would be more believable than being at the barricades?"

"Yes, my parents dislike traveling, but they always consider me an adventurer. The only reason I have not wondered away from the country is because I have been too committed to the fight here. But my parents do not know that, so I told them that since I have missed this 'Republican insurrection' that I heard happened in Paris, I will stay in Algiers for the summer to observe the governing institutions that have been set up there and inspect the conditions of the native population. I told them that since I am against colonization — which I indeed am and they _have_ heard me say so — I intend to bring my firsthand experience back to Paris to contribute to the anti-colonization movement."

"The anti-colonization movement would be better in their eyes than the Republicans?"

"I think they would understand it better, as they are the type of people who could never comprehend why anyone would go to the trouble of annexing a foreign nation when we have a perfectly good country here."

"How do they not realize that your letter did not come from Algeria though?"

"Oh, I just told them I was sending it with a classmate who had returned to Paris early. And as to why the letter was not written in my hand — Joly had written it for me, you see — I just told them that I had injured my hand in a minor incident, that it was nothing to worry about, and that I had asked a fellow student 'here' to write it for me. In fact, if they do not hear from me for a while, it is because I would rather wait until my hand heals and write them myself."

"Enjolras," Éponine said in amazement. "I never would have guessed that you were able to concoct such lie! That is quite masterful."

"Well… Not quite. They have recently sent a letter to Combeferre, you see — him being the only one of my friends whom they have met — asking if he knew of a way to get in touch with me. Apparently, one of my father's old military colleagues has dined at our house recently. And this man so happened to have just returned from Algiers… My parents became rather worried when this friend told them that he knew of a contingent of Parisian students there, but he had never seen me. In fact, he was not even aware that I had gone there in the first place. Yes… I always forget that my father has military connections…"

"What shall you tell them? _Will_ you tell them anything?"

"I am not quite sure yet… I have to address it somehow. My father loathes coming to Paris, but he might just do so, if he fails to hear from me. I shall need your help to write the letter though. Combeferre is not due to come free my arm from this cast until mid next week and even then I doubt that I will regain my dexterity straight away."

"Of course, whatever you need, Enjolras."

They kept talking then… Éponine asked him where else he would like to go in the world if he was "no longer married to his _patria_." Enjolras had to laugh at her phrasing, but told her of several places he would not mind seeing. She in turn told him that she had never thought of leaving France because she simply was not much aware of what other countries were out there. She asked him where Algeria was, as she was too embarrassed earlier to let him know that she was not familiar with it. He gave her a brief description, as well as explained to her a little bit about colonization and why France was interested in the place… He must have gone into too much detail though, because the next time he looked over to her, she had fallen asleep.

"Well, I must not be a very good teacher after all, Éponine, if you fell asleep in the middle of my speech," he said to her sleeping form.

She had fallen asleep on her side facing him. He thought that he rather liked that, because she usually slept almost determinedly with her back to him, as though afraid that she would impose upon him if she faced him while she slept.

The slightly open window had brought a sliver of moonlight to the room and it fell softly on her face. He did not realize that he was smiling as he watched her and thought to himself that Éponine had quite a nice visage… which he could not fully see right now as it was slightly obscured by a few strands of hair that had fallen across her face.

Without fully being conscious of what he was doing, he reached out his left hand towards her and gently swept the hair away. His thumb lingered a little bit on her cheek as he brushed the soft skin there… He found himself being amazed by the feeling. How was it so soft? And so dewy? Was the rest of her this soft? Éponine stirred a little bit and sighed, but did not wake up. It was then that he realized what he was doing and pulled his hand back swiftly.

His heart was quickening. What was that? He had never done anything like that before…

He was the farthest thing from obtuse, so he suspected he knew what it meant… But he also suddenly felt too tired to fully deal with the implication of it all… His mind wanted to shut down, so he promised to save the thought for another day… He took a few deep breaths to calm the beating of his heart and closed his eyes.

As he fell asleep, his head turned slightly to face his sleeping companion.

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**Author's Notes:** Did you like it? I have had that last scene in my head for ages! Good to finally get it out :-).

Okay, so I made up a lot of mini 'stories' for this chapter: Émile/Éponine's love story (I am so uncreative with names, hey? 'Marcellus'? Haha…), the Republican plans for July 14th (It was so hard to determine what the status of their movement was at this stage, so I just made an educated guess as to what they might have wanted to do regarding July 14th), Enjolras' childhood and parents (It took me a while to come up with what kind of parents would make Enjolras the way he is. And I did not want him to hate them, because I think his underlying kindness comes from somewhere), and Algeria (French conquest happened in 1830). There may be some historical inaccuracies, but hopefully none too jarring. If there is, let me know though and I shall try my best to fix it.

If there was one thing I learned from my French Revolution class, it was what my History professor said regarding 'revolution' vs. 'rebellion'/'insurgency', so I thought I'd put it in here as well.

Btw, speaking of the French Revolution, I recently finished reading _A Tale of Two Cities_. Seriously, how good is that book? I told you I love themes of sacrifice.

Also random, but I found that some people ship Combeferre/Joly. Hee! I am so amused by this for some reason.

Anyway… What do you think of this chapter? Please review, as that seems to be my biggest motivation, but if you want to show your support by following/favoriting, I'll take that too! _Merci_ :-).


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** Les Misérables and all its associated characters do not belong to me. I am bringing out my 'I do not have a medical background' disclaimer again. You will see why on this chapter.

**Summary: **One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes: **Wow, I've had some really terrific reviews on the last chapter, possibly even more than the previous one. Thanks again, guys! I think a couple of you even said that you don't normally review fanfics, but you did so for mine, because you wanted to let me know what you think. I really appreciated that :-). I hope you enjoy this chapter!

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**Chapter 16**

The dry heat of the last few days finally broke and rain arrived in massive downpours. It was in this showery conditions that Combeferre made his way over to the convent to visit Enjolras and Éponine. The day had finally arrived for Enjolras to have the cast on his arm taken off. As it was only a small one, Combeferre told Joly that he could handle it and that they could bring in the surgeon for the leg cast. Joly had wanted to come too, but _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent was only able to arrange for one physician to come by this time around. Besides, Joly was in fact not feeling very well after all. Combeferre thought that it was most likely due to the change in weather or exhaustion. But the hypochondriac medical student was quite convinced that he had contracted cholera. He tried to keep Musichetta away, but she told him not to be so dramatic. She was currently tending to him at home with a variety of his home-made remedies.

Combeferre was met by _Monsieur_ Fauchevelent and the prioress at the gate. They made their way swiftly to the couple's room, partially to evade the rain and partially because the prioress wanted to prevent the nuns and the students from catching sight of the young doctor. The _Monsieur_ and the prioress left him at the door.

Before going in, Combeferre made sure to shake the rain off his coat and hair. He was carrying his medical bag and a long package, which he promptly placed down inside the door to greet his friends. He made his way first to Enjolras, who was siting at the foot of the bed, and gave him a solid hug.

"You are looking well, _mon ami_. I think the calm air of the convent agrees with you."

"Combeferre, it is good to see you. Thank you for coming."

Combeferre then went over to Éponine, who had been sitting at the desk and writing in her notebook. She was not sure of how she was supposed to greet him, but he resolved the matter by giving her a friendly embrace as well.

"Thank you for taking care of my friend there, Éponine. I am happy to see that you are also looking healthy."

"Thank you, _Monsieur."_

"Your wounds have not been bothering you, I trust?"

"No, they have healed well."

"Excellent." He turned back towards his former leader, "Now, Enjolras, do you want to hear some news first or do you want me to see to your arm straight away?"

"Let's hear the news first. I have been starved for information, apart from your letters, for far too long. My arm can wait a moment longer."

Éponine interrupted then, eager to give the two men some privacy, "Would you like some coffee, _Monsieur_ Combeferre? I purchased some yesterday for your arrival. I remember that you quite like to take it in the afternoon. I shall bring you some as well, Enjolras, if you wish. We also have some _gâteau_ that _Madame_ Morel helped me bake this morning."

"That sounds wonderful, Éponine, thank you," replied Combeferre.

"_Merci_, Éponine," said Enjolras with a soft smile at her.

Combeferre noticed that there was something different in their interactions… Like it was more _intimate_ somehow… Could it really be…? Had his marble-like friend been cracked by a _jeune fille_ after all? But when Enjolras turned back towards him, he looked as he always had, somewhat serious and with a neutral expression on his face.

They talked for a while, Combeferre bringing Enjolras up to speed on the various developments that he had not been able to fit into his letters. For instance, alongside his work at the hospital and his classes, he was still taking patients at home and had even turned Enjolras' old room into an examination room. He could not wait until he obtained his medical license, so that he could finally practice in the open. Despite his full plate, he also told Enjolras that he might have to go home for a while to see his mother, who was not well. He asked Enjolras what he finally did in terms of the correspondence from _his_ parents. Enjolras told him that he had come up with a story, which Éponine helped put in a letter, that he hoped would satisfy their curiosity and keep them from looking further into his precise whereabouts. Combeferre then spoke lengthily of his work with the cholera outbreak, how deadly and difficult it was to diagnose, as the patients presented with a variety of symptoms, the most ominous of which was a certain blue-violet hue in their skin.

Enjolras listened raptly. He did not use to be quite so interested in medical discussions. Whenever Combeferre and Joly had started on the topic at _Café Musain_, he would tune them out. But having been deprived of many conversation topics and partners as of recent, he found himself thoroughly engaged with Combeferre's account. Furthermore, ever since his chat with Éponine regarding professions, he had developed a much higher appreciation for these practical men of science, whose skills were invaluable to so many people in such a direct manner. He wished now that he had also thought of going into the medical field. Then, at least, he could have helped his fellow citizens in a real way. But he supposed it was not to be his path after all… He did not know whether he would ever have the opportunity to return to university and obtain his legal degree, not with his fugitive status at least, and there was also that option that Éponine suggested…

Speaking of whom, Éponine came back then, carrying a tray of steaming cups of coffee and plates of cake. Enjolras was quite thankful for the interruption, as Combeferre had grown increasingly graphic in his descriptions of the malady.

"Would you like to join us, Éponine?" asked Combeferre, cradling the cup between his hands and feeling grateful for the warmth.

"No, thank you, Monsieur. I just remembered that I have not yet picked up our latest batch of clothes from the laundress, Enjolras. I shall go out and fetch it."

"In this rain?" Enjolras said, as he looked up from his cup. He was not a big coffee drinker, but Voltaire did swear by it, so perhaps he should give it a try.

"Yes, we are about to run out of clean clothes." She almost teased him with a daring quip about not wanting to walk around in the nude, but stopped herself in time, as _Monsieur_ Combeferre was present in the room.

"Surely you can wait for a few hours for the rain to subside," replied Enjolras again.

"It does not look like the sky will clear anytime today, Enjolras. Do not worry. A little rain will not hurt me." Éponine said with a smile.

"I may need your help with the cast, Éponine," said Combeferre. "I do not know if you have given much thought to our conversation from a while ago, but it might be good for you to observe."

"Yes, that is a good point, _Monsieur_. I would like to see it and assist if I can… I shall not be longer than half hour though, if you can spare the time?"

"Certainly."

"Enjolras, your laundry, are they at the normal pile?"

"Yes, I've put them all in the bundle there."

"What about this shirt on top of your trunk?"

Combeferre watched this exchange with much interest. There was something splendidly _domestic _in their communication, like they were very familiar and in tune with each other. He was glad to see this almost… _experiment_ of his going well. When he suggested this arrangement, it was more out necessity — so that Enjolras did not have to manage by himself — but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Here were two people who needed to _help_ and _be helped_ by each other. Romance was a distant figure in his equation, because the girl _was_ in love with Marius and Enjolras was… Enjolras. But perhaps Joly was not completely off the mark when he alluded to this possibility weeks ago…

After Éponine had left with two bundles under her arms, Combeferre turned towards Enjolras and said neutrally, "She takes very good care of you, doesn't she?"

"Yes, she does."

"It is going well here, then? You two living together?"

"There is no issue. I like Éponine's company. She makes a good student, while still offering many helpful insights on our discussions."

"Yes, I noticed her influence on that first tract you wrote."

As Enjolras only nodded in response and seemed determined to avoid talking about Éponine, Combeferre let the subject go and turned the conversation back to his work, "Anyway, as I was saying Enjolras... It baffles Joly and myself that this disease seems to affect the poor at an inordinate rate compared to the rich. There is absolutely nothing different in their biology, only in their living conditions, so there is a hypothesis going around in the medical community that the disease spreads from squalor, due to a lack of sanitation in the slums, perhaps precisely through infected air or food or water. So I would suggest for you to keep up with your hygiene routine, _mon ami_. Are you bathing daily? Is Éponine helping you with such task?"

Enjolras had to admire Combeferre's professional tone as he asked the question. It must be part of his physician's training. Nevertheless, he could not help the irritation that appeared in his voice as he answered, "Yes, I am bathing daily, Combeferre. And I can actually manage most things by myself. I am not a complete invalid."

"I mean no insult, Enjolras," Combeferre said with a placating smile. "But surely there are things you cannot do by yourself. Hopefully you are comfortable enough with Éponine to ask for help? I shall very much hate for you to contract cholera because you are too proud or too... embarrassed to be candid with her. She is considering doing this as a trade after all."

"She does have a talent for it," admitted Enjolras. "But regardless, all you need to know, Combeferre, is that Éponine and I have sufficient caretaker-patient relationship."

As Enjolras had provided the opening, Combeferre decided to try again, "Is that all that is? She your caretaker and you her patient? Or you her instructor and she your student?"

Enjolras, who was much too aware of Combeferre's talent for subtly manipulating a conversation, felt that the other man should speak plainly. He did not like wasting words after all, "Why don't you come out and say it, Combeferre? You are wondering if my relationship with Éponine has progressed to romance?"

"Well, yes… But you cannot blame me, Enjolras. You know that I have been very supportive of your stance in forsaking romance, not that you have mentioned it outright, mind you, but one only needs to infer it from your behavior, or lack thereof, around women... I have even tried it for myself, but I am not as strong as you. In fact, I can tell you that there is a lovely creature who has caught my eye recently. I see her around the hospital quite a bit, though I suspect that she is sadly married... Anyway, my point is, I never questioned your lack of interest in the female species because I think it works for you, but here is one such girl, with whom you are already living in close quarters, which in a way demands a higher level of intimacy than others who are strictly lovers, and with whom you also seem to have a strong connection... A common man will graduate that relationship to romance without a second thought. But of course, you are no such common man, _mon ami_..."

Enjolras was silent for a while, digesting his friend's words. He supposed if he was to confide in someone, it _would_ be Combeferre, "I cannot deny that there is_... something_ that I feel for Éponine. She is unlike any young woman I have encountered. She speaks to me like an equal and I admire her ability for independent thought. And of course I also appreciate everything she does to take care of me... Yet at the same time… I _am_ still attached to the vow I have made to this country. Despite being currently struck down and away from the fight, I still have not given up on it all. And I do not believe that I can achieve my goals if I am tied down to a woman. So I try not to be too... _personal_ with Éponine... But I must admit that I have not been much succeeding lately." He paused to look at Combeferre with a grave expression, "One thing I told myself before we arrived at this arrangement was that the bed is meant for sleeping only. And while that had been the case at the start, I found myself… wanting to engage her in conversations until late at night, in spite of myself… And these are _personal_ conversations that serve no purpose other than I simply wish to share them with her… I am not sure what to do about this if I am to be frank, Combeferre."

Combeferre had to steel himself for a bit. When Enjolras talked of the bed, he almost had a heart attack. But he supposed for someone like Enjolras (_was_ there anyone truly like Enjolras?), initiating a heart-to-heart with someone before sleep was possibly as — if not more — intimate as any other acts two people could do on a bed… How _should_ he approach this?

"I cannot lie and say that I am not happy that you are finally experiencing this, _mon ami_. I think it is a breakthrough for you," Combeferre started. "But at the same time, I _know_ you… I know that this is possibly tearing you on the inside and makes you question what you believe about yourself. You think that it is a choice: a woman or your country. And I understand why you think so, as you do not do anything without a full commitment. But what I suggest to you is that it may not necessarily have to be so. It may indeed be possible for you to be with a woman and still commit to your fight. You may find that her presence actually makes you a better fighter and a better man. With all this being said though… _she_ also needs to be a willing participant, as I imagine it would not be easy for a woman to share her man with a country… How do you think Éponine feels about you?"

Enjolras, who had never been and who had never thought he would be confronted with this question, had to take some time to think. He indeed was not sure of how Éponine felt about him. Up to this point, his experience with young women had entirely consisted of him trying to avoid eye contact with them when they showed some kind of romantic interest in him. Éponine, meanwhile, had not displayed any outright signs that she was… _attracted_ to him. And he knew that she was capable of doing so, as she had been quite apparent when she was enamored with Marius. Speaking of whom, _was_ she still enamored with Pontmercy? He found that he did not like the thought at all…

"Enjolras?" Combeferre had to interrupt, as his friend seemed to be caught in his own reverie.

"I do not know, Combeferre, how she feels about me."

"She certainly cares about you, that much is obvious… And I do not think it takes a lot for a woman to find your looks appealing, _mon ami_." Combeferre stopped then, because the expression that Enjolras gave him was too amusing. He added with a laugh, "It is the truth, Enjolras! Do not deny that."

Enjolras just rolled his eyes, as if it was the most exasperating thing in the world to be found physically appealing by women.

"Still…" Combeferre added in a serious tone after he had composed himself. "She _was_ thoroughly besotted with Marius. I do not think one gets over the kind of love that would prompt a sacrifice of life very easily… So, I suppose, with this in mind… I might caution you against moving one way or another with Éponine until _you_ are sure, Enjolras. Do not make her fall in love with you and then dash her hopes. I do not think the girl can survive another broken heart."

Enjolras was about to reply that that was precisely his dilemma at the moment, that he was incapable of doing anything half-heartedly, but Éponine returned then.

She immediately felt that she had interrupted an important moment, "Forgive me, you seem to be in the middle of a conversation. I can come back—"

"No, do not worry, Éponine," said Combeferre. "I think now is a good time for us to take a look at that cast."

"You should dry yourself first, Éponine, before you catch a chill," said Enjolras, as he watched her place the bundles of clothes that she just picked up on top of their trunks. He also seemed distracted by the fact that her wet clothes were sticking to her.

"Good point," But then she looked at the two men almost bashfully, "Do you gentlemen mind if I take myself behind this screen to change?"

"Not at all, Éponine. Do you want me to leave the room instead?" asked Combeferre.

"That is not necessary, _Monsieur_." Éponine said with a hint of blush on her cheeks. It occurred to her that _Monsieur_ Combeferre had possibly seen her naked after all, when he tended to her wounds. She did not use to be this concerned about her modesty, but no longer living in the streets had certainly changed that.

Enjolras did not say anything, but he was always present in the room anyway when she dressed. She grabbed some dry clothes and changed into them as quickly as possible, drying her hair with a rag.

_Monsieur_ Combeferre got to work straight away as soon as she was ready. He examined Enjolras' arm first, seeing his range of movement and pain level. He then opened his bag and pulled out several instruments. He talked through the procedure and showed Éponine what he needed her to do, which was not much, really, so she mostly just observed.

Enjolras was surprised to see that his arm looked almost misshapen when the cast came off. The skin was flaky and impossibly paler than the rest of him. Combeferre gently checked Enjolras' span of motion again with a few stretches and determined that the bone had indeed mended well. He had Éponine fetch some water to wash the skin and advised them on how to care for the limb in the following few days. They would need to help the skin heal, restore muscle strength, and guard against further damage by utilizing the arm initially for easy tasks only and then working up to using it fully.

Combeferre then unwrapped the long package that he had brought along. It turned out to be a crutch that Enjolras could use to help him around once his arm had regained the strength. He demonstrated how Enjolras was supposed to use it precisely and told Éponine that she might need to assist him at the start.

Once done, Combeferre prepared to take his leave. He would love to stay for a bit longer, but he still had a full schedule ahead. He gave Éponine another embrace and praised her for doing extremely well in her caretaking capacity. He was very glad to know that his friend was in good hands. When he hugged Enjolras, he whispered in his ear to think about what they discussed earlier and perhaps let him know how he went, once the latter had regained the use of his hand to write.

Combeferre said he would show himself out, as there was no sense in Éponine getting soaked again just to lead him to the gate. He gave the unlikely pair one last smile and then left.

Éponine told Enjolras that she would replace the water that they used initially to clean his arm and get him a fresh basin to soak the newly freed limb further. She then helped him gently wipe the skin with a soft cloth and soap.

Enjolras watched her in silence and could not help feeling a kind of… _affection_ towards her. She really was so good to him….

But before he could allow for this… _relationship _to develop further, he really must figure out what he truly wanted. Combeferre was dead on, of course. He could not let Éponine fall in love with him if he did not intend to follow through…

Somewhere, in the back of his mind though, there was a voice that was telling him that he might be powerless to stop _himself_ from falling for _her._

* * *

Éponine started feeling weak two days after Combeferre's visit. She awoke in the morning and found her head spinning and her limbs aching. She barely had enough energy to rise and do her tasks, but pushed on anyway, thinking that she had gotten by in worse conditions while on the streets. By mid-afternoon though, she could not no longer concentrate on her lessons and asked Enjolras if she could rest instead. He looked at her with worry, wondering if she had been overworking herself. He told her to get some sleep straight away and not concern herself with anything else she was meant to do today. She got a basin of cold water for herself and lay down on the bed with a cloth on her forehead, hopefully soothing her splitting headache.

Enjolras tried to convince himself that she was just tired, but found that he could not concentrate on his reading, as he kept looking over at her sleeping restlessly. He made his way to sit on the bed next to her and felt her forehead. It was burning. He re-soaked and replaced the damp cloth, feeling unsure of what he should do next. He had never tended to a sick person before and scolded himself for never having the experience. When she still did not rise by dinnertime and started coughing, he wondered if he should try to hobble out and ask for help.

He was thankfully saved the effort by a knock on the door, revealing a woman who had come to check on Éponine out of worry when the girl did not show up to cook dinner earlier. The woman introduced herself as _Madame _Morel and told 'Émile', whom she had never met until now, that she encountered his wife earlier in the kitchen when the girl was fetching a basin of water for her head. She looked a bit ill, she said, so she assumed that she was still lying down. The _Madame_ had brought dinner for the couple, in case they wanted to eat. She also promised to take a tray of food to _his_ grandfather, as Éponine normally did that as well.

Enjolras conveyed his gratitude and asked if the _Madame_ thought he should ask for a physician to be brought around. _Madame _Morel went over to check on Éponine, who was still not quite conscious and had not stopped coughing. The _Madame_ thought that she looked like she had come down with the chills, perhaps due to the change in weather, but she was not sure. She would go get them a fresh basin of cold water and some more cloths, which they could place on several parts of her body to try and bring her temperature down. In the meantime, he should get her to drink more water.

While the _Madame_ was gone, Enjolras tried to get Éponine to rise slightly by placing his left arm behind her head and supporting it gently. He brought the glass of water to her lips, which looked quite dry and colorless, and asked her to please drink some. She took small sips but complained that her throat hurt and that she just wanted to get some more sleep. She would be better with more sleep, she said.

When the _Madame_ came back, Enjolras helped her put new cool cloths on Éponine's forehead, neck, and feet. She said that for the moment, he should just let his wife sleep, perhaps replacing the cloths once in a while when they became too warm. If she woke up, try and get her to eat, she advised. The _Madame_ left him with a soft squeeze on his shoulder and told him that she would come back later with more drinking water.

Éponine did not waken all evening and when the hour was late, Enjolras wondered if he should try to sleep himself and let her rest until morning. As he lay there next to her though, he could not stop the thought that he had been trying very hard to avoid thinking all evening...

_What if it was cholera?_

She did not have all the symptoms that Combeferre mentioned, but he did also say that patients often had a variety of them, which was why it was difficult for the physicians to diagnose… And Combeferre thought that the disease spread through filth, which made it less likely that Éponine would have it, since she kept their room spotless… But Combeferre also said that this was only a hypothesis… What if the disease was transferred by a seemingly harmless carrier? Could Combeferre not have been affected himself but had carried it with him when he visited and infected Éponine?

One thing Combeferre did mention that the patients all had in common was that 'blue-violet hue' on their skin. But what did that mean, really? Could Enjolras see that color on her skin? She definitely looked paler, though not necessarily blue…

He was certainly not getting any sleep tonight, as he kept watching her for signs of improvement and bringing the back of his hand to feel her cheek to see if she had cooled down. She had not. And she was not even sweating.

Suddenly, her body was wracked by a coughing fit and she started mumbling that she was cold. Should he go get help? He felt that he should get a physician to look over her. Combeferre also said that many cholera patients became suddenly and rapidly worse. He could not afford to wait until morning for Éponine to worsen, could he? If she did have cholera and he let her… _grow beyond help_, he simply would not be able to live with himself. What was a possible overreaction on his part after everything that _she_ had done for _him_?

With that in mind, he resolved to get to Valjean's room somehow. He had not yet tested out his new crutch and suspected that his arm was not quite strong enough to use it, but he did not care. Using much effort and suppressing the pain emanating from his newly healed limb, he hobbled out of his room and made his way over to his supposed grandfather's door. It only took a few minutes for Valjean to answer his fervent knocking.

Enjolras explained quickly that Éponine was ill, that she had not been getting better all day, and that he was worried that she might have cholera, based on Combeferre's recent visit. He asked if Valjean could fetch a doctor to examine her tonight before her condition deteriorated. Valjean listened silently and then said that he would rouse the Morels; _Monsieur_ Morel could go get the physician, while _Madame_ Morel could wait with Enjolras and Éponine. He himself would wake up the prioress and let her know of what was happening, to ensure that she was fine with the emergency visitor. Enjolras frankly could not care less about the prioress and her rules at the moment, but thanked Valjean for his quick thinking. He limped back to his room and was soon joined by _Madame _Morel.

Éponine was still coughing violently and shivering. The _Madame_ asked him to help the girl to sit up, so that she could breathe better. While Enjolras held her up with his arm around her shoulders, the _Madame_ wiped Éponine's face with the damp cloth. Her skin still felt impossibly too hot to him.

Thankfully, it did not take long for the physician to arrive. Enjolras and _Madame_ Morel cleared themselves off the bed promptly, so that the man could examine Éponine straight away.

Enjolras sat down on a chair and watched with anxiety. _Madame_ Morel noticed this and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Perhaps you should wait with your grandfather and let the man do his job. I will come fetch you when he is done." And then she added with a kind smile, "Do not fret, _Monsieur_ Émile. She told me how you two met and how much she loves you. She will pull through."

Enjolras nodded in assent, partially registering what the _Madame_ said about Éponine telling her that she loved him?

_Monsieur_ Morel and Valjean were waiting outside, so they helped him go to Valjean's room to wait. Enjolras and Valjean just sat there not saying a word to each other until Enjolras suddenly remembered what Éponine said to him once and felt like sharing it with the other man, "She once told me that she is tougher than she looks… I very much hope that she is correct."

"Yes, Cosette told me what Marius said Éponine did for him. The girl has admirable strength and courage."

Enjolras just nodded, thinking that Éponine would surely not have been spared from death at the barricade to be struck down weeks later by an illness.

When _Madame_ Morel finally came for him, Enjolras was so jittery that he would have jumped out of his seat had he not been anchored down by the cast on his leg.

"Young man, if you are this nervous now, how would you be when your wife is in labor one day?" The _Madame_ said to him with amusement in her voice.

By her light tone, Enjolras guessed that it was good news. And sure enough, the physician told him that his wife most likely had the common cold, at best, or influenza, at worst. It certainly was _not_ cholera. He looked slightly irritated at being woken up in the dead of the night by an overly panicked husband, but conveyed all this in a professional tone. He told Enjolras that the treatment was simply bed rest and plenty of fluids. Her fever should break by morning, though her coughing and body aches might not subside until a few days later.

Enjolras nodded and thanked the physician. He was so relived that he could not even muster feeling embarrassed at having woken up all these people in his overreaction.

"See, _Monsieur_ Émile?" said _Madame_ Morel. "Keep your wife close and look after her tonight. She should improve by morning."

"Thank you_, Madame_, for all your help. If you could also please relay my gratitude to your husband?" _Monsieur_ Morel had gone to escort the physician out. Enjolras had not even thought to pay him for his services, but Valjean had taken care of it. Valjean, meanwhile, had gone to the prioress to let her know that it was not cholera after all and that she needed not worry about the risk of infection to her nuns and students.

When Enjolras was finally alone again with Éponine, he got into bed next to her. The physician had left her with more damp cloths all over her body. He lifted the one on her forehead to feel the skin there. It did seem to be less hot than before. However, she was also still shivering and mumbling that she was cold.

He suddenly knew what he could do. He wiped her skin once more with the damp cloths but then removed them all from her body. He then sank down on the bed so that he was almost completely lying down. With his right hand, he lifted her off gently off the bed, so that he could place his left arm underneath her. He then slowly pulled her towards him so that she was lying against his side, with his arms around her in an embrace. His left hand softly rubbed up and down her upper arm and his right drew circles on her back, hoping that she would feel a bit warmer soon.

"Do you want to hear a confession, Éponine?" he said to her unconscious form. "I am of course not happy that you are sick and I am very relieved that you seem to only have the common cold… But I think a little part of me is glad that _I_ get to take care of _you_ for a change. You have been taking the load of the work so far…."

Éponine stopped shivering and curled herself closer to his body in response. She did not wake up though, so he kept doing what he was doing. Again, this was a first for him. He had never before held a girl in an embrace like this and he found himself… quite liking it. Éponine was thin, but she was soft in all the right places.

He was about to berate himself for thinking such a thought at a time like this, but then he heard Éponine whisper his name.

It was such a soft sigh, but he definitely did not mistake it. She said his name.

The feeling that it gave him was indescribable. There was a swooping sensation in his stomach and a tingly feeling down his spine that he had never experienced before…

Her head was just underneath his chin, so he did the only thing that made sense to him. He placed a soft kiss on her hair. "Feel better, Éponine."

He kept her in his arms all night and it was in this position that Éponine's fever finally broke.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I must admit that that's one hell of a tough chapter to write. Between the medical stuff (Taking off the cast, cholera, influenza, and the common cold... Guess which one I've experienced for myself? If you said the cold, you are correct) and it being consisted mainly of Enjolras' thoughts/feelings? Yikes. Hopefully he doesn't sound too out of character and that I haven't progressed his feelings for Éponine too quickly. I didn't originally plan to have his conversation with Combeferre to be that… _revealing_, but one of my reviewers, **penulis**, brought up the good point that Enjolras is actually quite astute. I think once he realizes that he might have some romantic inclinations towards Éponine, he would not completely deny or dismiss it altogether. He might want to work it out and see his options…

And as to his overreaction towards Éponine's illness… Well, Enjolras doesn't know much about cholera (even the doctors back then didn't, as the 1830s were the first time the disease reached Europe from Asia) or about being around sick people in general, really. And I think the fact that he overreacted might just indicate his feelings for her... ;-).

Btw, this is so totally random, but how much do I love it that it was Joly who sang the following line in "Drink With Me"? "_Here's to witty girls who went to our beds_." I am extrapolating, but I love that he likes to have a witty girl as a lover. I keep that in mind every time I write about Musichetta ;-).

So, what do you think? Reviews motivate me to write quicker, but I also appreciate some more follows/faves :-). Thank you!


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** Les Misérables and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary: **One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes: **Thank you again for the awesome reviews! One of my guest reviewers said that my writing style is really clear and easy to follow. That is such a compliment for me, because as a Communications major, that is always what I'm going for ;-). **This chapter is dedicated to Samantha Barks and Aaron Tveit**, because how good were they at the Oscars? Sam and her strong Éponine voice and Aaron with his Enjolras strut… Brilliant! Totally wrote this chapter with them in mind, so yes, hopefully you enjoy it!

* * *

**Chapter 17**

Éponine woke up the next morning feeling comfortably warm and relatively well-rested, despite the aches on her body and the tickle in her throat. Even before she opened her eyes, she thought that her pillow smelled better than usual, like soap and the scent of a certain _someone_…

Then she quickly realized that her head was not in fact resting on her pillow, but instead on the chest — the very _nice_ chest — of that certain _someone_….

How did she get here?

His arms were wrapped around her pretty tightly, so she could barely look up from her position. She was definitely partially lying on top of Enjolras though, with her front side entirely pressed against his left. It was not a bad position in which to find herself, but at the same time she felt a bit self-conscious that she was sweating all over him.

"Good morning, Éponine." he said from above her head. He loosened the hold on her body and placed one hand to her hair, patting it softly, seemingly without realizing it. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes. Thank you. What happened?" She tried to prop herself up, but there was nowhere to place her palms other than on his chest.

He seemed to finally realize the peculiarity of their position. He sat up a little bit, so that she could move to a sitting position as well.

"The physician thought that you most likely came down down with a cold." He reached a hand out to feel her forehead, "Your temperature has gone down. That's good."

"You called a physician for me?"

"Yes, I was worried that you had contracted cholera. You looked very much out of it for most of yesterday. Do you remember anything at all?"

"I was lying down in the afternoon… And then… I think you tried to get me to drink something later on… But the rest is a blur."

"The physician said that you should feel better now that the fever is broken, but he also recommended that you stay in bed for the next few days. How does your throat feel? You were coughing quite fiercely."

"A bit raw." She was distracted by the fact that his shirt was very damp, "I am sorry for sweating all over you, Enjolras. It must not have been comfortable sleeping with a sick person all night."

Enjolras, who had not noticed the state of his shirt until now, dismissed her concerns with a smile, "Do not worry yourself over it. After everything you have done to help me, I think it is high time that I take care of you in return, don't you think?"

As Éponine seemed to be at a lost for words, he continued on, "You should probably change into dry clothes though. _Madame_ Morel left several basins of water last night that you can use to wash. Do you think you will be strong enough? I can… assist you otherwise."

"No, I think I shall be able to manage by myself." She tried to gingerly stand, feeling a bit dazed and drained of energy.

"Why don't you change into one of my sleepshirts? You need to get more rest and you shall feel more comfortable sleeping in it than your clothes."

Éponine looked hesitant, "Are you sure?" She must admit that the thought of re-dressing in her clothes with all its bindings and restricting corset was not very appealing.

"Of course, take one from my trunk."

"Thank you, Enjolras."

As Éponine sat behind the screen and wiped the sweat off her skin the best she could, she could hear Enjolras bustling around. He decided to use the time to clean himself as well. He took off his shirt and limped over to another basin of water on the desk.

A while later, Éponine called out from behind the screen, "Are you decent?"

"Yes, come out."

Well, he was not, really… Not completely. He had managed to change his pants, but he was still naked from the waist up. He was trying to wipe the spot between his shoulder blades.

"Here, let me help you," she said holding her hand out for the cloth.

He knew that he was the one to suggest her current attire, but he could not help but be distracted by the way she looked in _his _shirt. It was much too big for her, so it was not as if it… _revealed_ _anything_, but just the knowledge that she was wearing something of _his_… and nothing much else was highly… _distracting_.

Éponine, meanwhile, had by now been more used to seeing Enjolras in various states of undress, so she was not quite as distracted as he was. She brushed the cloth slowly against his skin. Was it her imagination or was he going a bit red behind the neck? She dismissed the thought, wondering why she was feeling so tired even though she just woke up.

"I think I need to lie down again for a little bit after this, Enjolras. Will you be fine with a late breakfast?"

"Do not worry about it, Éponine. I wish I could fix a meal for you for a change, but _Madame_ Morel will come by a bit later with some food."

"Oh good." Once she was done, she crawled back to bed, feeling slightly guilty that she was being quite slothful. Enjolras was right though. It was much more comfortable sleeping in his shirt… And if she enjoyed the smell of him on the fabric, well then that was just a bonus.

It did not take her long to fall asleep again.

* * *

Overall, it took Éponine two full days to recover from her illness. She was surprised to find that Enjolras was actually quite… _caring_ towards her… He tried to help her eat on that first day and even took time to read to her from the romantic books that she enjoyed. It was such an odd and almost ironic turn of events that Éponine wanted to shake her head in amusement. The only thing he was not able to do was cook meals for her. He had been getting better at using the crutch, so he had been managing to get around by himself, but Éponine had stopped him from going to the kitchen, as the prioress would certainly not allow it.

On the third day after she had fallen ill, Éponine was finally able to get out of bed and attempt to return to her normal activities. After bathing, she changed the sheets on the bed, gathered all their dirty laundry together to take to the laundress, and then cooked breakfast for herself, Enjolras, and _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent. She did not have time to speak to _Madame_ Morel amidst the hustle and bustle of the kitchen in the morning, but when she came back in the afternoon to prepare dinner, the two women could chat while they worked at a more leisurely pace.

The _Madame_ told Éponine that she was happy to see her out and about again. She had missed her presence in the kitchen. And she had also been dying to tell her what happened the day the girl first fell ill, about how her husband woke everyone up in the middle of the night in a panic, because he thought she might have cholera and asked his grandfather for a doctor to be brought around straightaway.

"Your Émile sure loves you, Éponine," said the _Madame_ with a kind smile. "It is rather sweet to find a young couple who are so devoted to each other."

Éponine, who was not aware of the length to which Enjolras had gone to get her a doctor, felt quite… _loved_ indeed.

But did he, really… _love_ her?

She noticed that he had been more… _caring_ lately, but that was simply because she was sick, wasn't it? Maybe he felt guilty because she had been taking care of him all this time and saw a chance to repay the favor… And as to getting the physician for her that night, perhaps that was because he did not wish to see anyone else… _die on his watch_.

What was odd though was that she did not find herself fearful that she might be… _disappointed_ if it was all true. She quite believed him after all when he said that he was aloof to romance, but at the same time, she was also certain that Enjolras had developed some kind of… _attachment_ to her. Prior to her falling ill, he had started the habit of talking to her until late at night. And these were not on serious topics like her lessons. Most of the time, it seemed like he just wanted to… _talk_, simply to share whatever was in his head with her.

She really enjoyed these sessions, because she felt that she was given the opportunity to see the _real_ him… Or rather, the side of him that he did not often show to the rest of the world. It certainly made her feel special. She could not help it if the desire to kiss him had been growing since then…

So, yes… She herself had definitely developed… _romantic_ inclinations towards him, but… it was different to how she felt for Marius.

It was less dramatic, for one… The thought of Enjolras did not consume her being, dominate her mind, and became the single reason for her existence. She did not feel as if her future hinged on whether or not he loved her back, so she felt… _freer_ about it.

It was also different to Marius because it felt more… _real_. She liked him because she liked him as a person, liked that he was sharing himself with her when he had not done that with many people, liked how she had something to offer him as much as he to her, and liked that he did not make her feel insecure about her feelings despite him never displaying any definite indications that he felt, or could ever feel, the same way.

It was very odd… She did not understand why this was so until, amazingly, she had a conversation with _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent one afternoon.

She had just returned from her errands and encountered him sitting on a bench in the garden. He greeted her politely, saying that he was glad to see that she had regained her health. She thanked him and then for some reason felt like sitting down and talking to him. She had never been quite able to bring herself to really speak to him, despite having lived with each other for some time now. Perhaps in some part of her conscience, she still had some guilt over how she treated Cosette as a child.

She thought that if she never cleared the air with the _Monsieur_, she would never feel settled. So she sat there for a while, thinking of the best way to bring it up, but in the end decided on a direct approach, "_Monsieur_, I have been meaning to speak with you… I do not know if you remember me, but I grew up with Cosette. My full name is Éponine Thénardier."

"Yes, I know that."

"You do?"

"Yes, I put it together when I saw your parents about. You might be curious to know that Cosette has largely forgotten about her time in your home."

"I would not blame her. We were not at all kind towards her, which is why I wish to speak with you, _Monsieur_… I hope you can forgive me for how I treated her. We were both children, but it is still no excuse."

"I have no dispute with you, Éponine. But if you wish for my forgiveness, then you shall have it. From what I have been told though, Cosette may actually owe her current life to you. You saved Marius at the barricade."

"Marius shared that with Cosette?"

"Yes, that was a brave and selfless thing you did."

"I would not say selfless, _Monsieur… _I simply did not wish to live without him."

"But you were motivated by love. Your love for him saved his life and in fact your own as well…" He fell silent then and turned to study her, "Éponine, do you know why I am here right now? Why I have left Cosette with Marius?"

"_Monsieur_ Combeferre only said that you were in trouble with the law and did not wish to endanger her. I pass no judgment, _Monsieur_, as you know my parents and what we are capable of as a family…"

"Yes, it seems that you and I both think that we must atone for our past. I do not mind telling you what I did, but I think the more important thing that you should know is that it is never too late to try and… _make things right_. We are not simply defined by our past, Éponine. If you were a criminal once, it does not mean that you will always have to be so. In fact, I admire the fact that despite the criminalities of your parents, you have grown up to be your own person and governed by conscience. Perhaps your love for Marius saved you there too. So you may possibly already know what I am about to say, but I think I should share this with you in any case… Do you know what I have come to discover now towards the end of my life?"

"What is it, _Monsieur_?"

"That loving another person, despite whether or not it is reciprocated, is the greatest joy that you could ever experience, that you may in fact find it to be the redemption and the salvation that you are looking for. I do not know if you are a religious person, Éponine. I have not been much close to God myself, but I can tell you that… _loving another person_, I think, is the closest that anyone could get to… _seeing the face of God_… That is what I have found by loving Cosette. She has saved my life… And now I wish to give hers back to her by taking myself and my past away from where it could threaten her future."

Éponine was struck by the emotion and the depth behind the _Monsieur_'s words. It seemed that the two of them understood each other more than she anticipated. She did not know anything else she could say, except, "Thank you, _Monsieur_. I will keep your words as guidance."

She placed one hand on the _Monsieur_'s arm and hoped that it conveyed her sincerest gratitude. As she stood up to leave, the _Monsieur _stopped her and said, "As you have told me your real name, it is only fair that I tell you mine. My name is Jean Valjean."

"It is a pleasure to finally speak with you, _Monsieur_ Valjean."

"And you, Éponine."

_Monsieur_ Valjean's words resonated in her head throughout the evening. Perhaps this was why she was feeling… _fearless_ about the possibly of… _falling in love_ with Enjolras. Even if he did not or could not love her in return, it was enough that she was proving to herself that she was _capable _of loving again… That having her love unreturned by Marius was not the end of her world.

Somehow though, her instincts were telling her that her case was astonishingly not as hopeless with Enjolras as it was with Marius… That despite his marble-like exterior, she was actually cracking him slowly but surely…

Perhaps this was the other reason she decided to let herself feel whatever she wanted to feel for Enjolras.

It was liberating.

She was not about to start mooning over him though. She needed to approach the situation delicately. Take any caring gestures that he would show her without question and reciprocate if possible and present him with more daring signs if she was feeling bold.

For instance, if he wanted to continue talking to her until late at night, then she would indulge him. If he wanted to sit close to her during her lessons, then she would let him. If he wanted her to sleep in his clothes, then she very well would.

All this she put in a letter to Musichetta, who replied immediately expressing delight that the girl was finally setting out on this romantic venture. She wrote back with some... _tips_ that made Éponine blush. She considered burning the letter, as she would be beside herself if Enjolras ever read it.

Nevertheless, she did start to wonder whether Enjolras would be susceptible to… _being seduced_ by a woman's feminine features… If anyone had suggested it to her a month ago, she would have thought the idea extremely preposterous. Now though… He still had not shown any outright signs that he was… physically attracted to her, but she could have sworn that sometimes when he looked at her, his gaze lingered…

Nothing quite happened though until one night they were talking in bed again…

Enjolras was complaining that he was feeling quite restless at being trapped in this room, especially now that he was managing to move around better with the crutch.

Éponine nodded in understanding. Unfortunately, Enjolras keeping to his room was part of the terms to which they agreed when they took residence in this convent. The prioress was quite strict about not letting men — particularly, good looking young men — to be seen in the premises, lest they distract — or worse, tempt — the nuns and pupils alike from their devotion to God.

However, it suddenly occurred to Éponine that barely any nuns and none of the pupils were still up at this hour… There were always two nuns, at all times, who kneeled in prayer at the church; one who was 'at the post' for twelve hours, while the other was relieved every hour… If Éponine and Enjolras went out just after the second nun got to post, then they would have almost a free hour to roam undisturbed… That would be better than nothing for Enjolras…

She suggested this possibility and he took to it immediately. Enjolras had very little patience for _Petit-Picpus_' archaic dogma, which he thought had barely any basis in common sense and served only to isolate its inhabitants, practically turning this place into a religious prison. However, he kept his opinions to himself and abided by their rules out of gratitude for their shelter and respect for Jean Valjean, who had gone to great lengths to arrange his stay. Nevertheless, he would hardly be offending the sensibilities of any nuns or pupils, would he, if he just stepped out of his room for a short time while they slept?

After they both had changed out of their sleepshirts, Enjolras and Éponine stepped outside, he getting by with the support of the crutch. She walked slightly ahead of him, ensuring that the coast was clear. They decided to go to the garden. Éponine thought that Enjolras should at least see this place, which she thought was the most beautiful feature of the whole compound and which was once tended by _Monsieur_ Valjean. They were fortunate that there was a full moon in the sky, as it provided enough illumination for them to find their way around.

She took a seat on one of the stone benches, but he remained standing, feeling his spirits lifting. This was the first time, ever since he got injured, that he had been truly outside, standing tall with no walls around him and only the sky above him. He took a lungful of the fresh, night air. It was almost intoxicating. He had underestimated the effects of being inside all the time would have on his disposition. He knew he once said that he did not fear going to jail for his cause, but if _this_ was how imprisonment was, being confined at all hours with barely any means to occupy himself, then he would have to make sure he prepared himself mentally if — or when — the authorities finally caught up to him.

Of course, in prison he would not have the company of a certain young lady... who had proved to be such a valued companion to him on this self-imposed exile... who in fact had made this night possible for him... so he could not say that his time ever since the barricade had been _precisely_ like incarceration…

"Thank you for suggesting this, Éponine. You have no idea how much I needed it."

"I should have thought of it sooner, Enjolras. You look so delighted at being outside."

"Yes, I have never been one to sit still and I certainly have done my fair share of that in the past two months."

"Well, enjoy it," she replied with a smile. "The night is yours."

The moon was shining down on her face, like that night when she fell asleep in the middle of their talk, and Enjolras could not help but be struck by the same feeling that he had then. She really did have a nice face, especially when she was smiling up at him like that. In fact, she looked rather… _beautiful_.

There was that weird swooping sensation in his stomach again and for some reason his legs started to fell weak as well, so he decided to take a seat next to her.

"Is your leg hurting you?" she asked with concern.

"It is feeling a bit shaky… I cannot wait until I can fully stand on my own two feet again."

"About that. I have been wondering… What will you do, Enjolras? What shall be the first thing you do when you have regained your fitness?"

"Well, providing I can evade the police… I thought I would go the graves of my friends and then visit their families, if they will have me. Do you know, Grantaire's family has requested for me to come see them one day?"

"Really?"

"Yes, I never did tell you, did I? I think our talk a long time ago really helped me write my letter to them, so thank you for that… But I feel I still owe them an account of their son and brother from my own mouth… I am not certain if they knew how Grantaire felt about me though…"

"If they do, then I am sure they would like to hear from the one person _Monsieur_ Grantaire loved very much… If not, you are still the one who was… with him in his last moment… Either way, I think it would be very nice indeed if they could talk to you."

"You are right of course," he said, turning to smile at her.

They were silent for a while, just enjoying each other's company in the crisp night atmosphere. The rains of the past week had brought the temperature down slightly and made the air feel cleaner. It mixed in nicely with the fragrances of the garden.

It occurred to Éponine that this was such a romantic setting. They were not touching, but he was sitting quite close to her. If she just reached her hand a little bit further... she could touch his.

But somehow, she did not think that it was the appropriate moment for such a gesture. So she decided to just talk to him further, "What were they like?"

"Who?"

"Your friends… Would you tell me about them? If you do not mind, that is. I never got a chance to get to know them."

"Well," he started, composing his thoughts. "Based on your preferred reading material, Éponine, I think you would have liked Prouvaire the best. His full name was Jean Prouvaire, but he liked to be called Jehan. He was the youngest among us, well-spoken, and kind. He was particularly concerned with the plight of women and children. He was a true romantic and a poet… I wish I could say I have read some of his works, but I am not very sentimental, as you know."

"You are right. I think I would have liked him. He sounded like a wonderful man. Perhaps I should have fallen in love with him instead of Marius…"

"Perhaps… Then there was Courfeyrac. He was closest to Marius. He was always animated and excitable. He had great passion for the cause though and liked to be the center of attention. He also had this youthful enthusiasm… He took it upon himself to watch out for your brother, Éponine. He was most broken up by his death."

"I did not know that. I am very grateful to _Monsieur_ Courfeyrac."

"Feuilly was the only one of us who was not a student. He was a fan-maker by trade and was admirably self-educated. He was an orphan, you see, and he said once that France was his mother. As you can imagine, he was very nationalistic, but he was also rather passionate about Poland." Enjolras then explained to her a bit about Poland, as she was looking confused.

"That is very admirable that he came from humble beginnings and was able to lift himself up. I had thought that all of you were from wealthy families."

"No, Bahorel also had a modest background. I questioned his idler tendency sometimes — he did his best to avoid studying and going to school, you see — but I could not deny that he was a talented speaker and a bold fighter, almost to the point of being a troublemaker, in fact. He had a big personality and had rather carved out a reputation for himself among the students of Paris. He was someone you would want to back you up though."

"Yes, I can see why Musichetta liked him."

Enjolras only raised his eyebrows at that, but said nothing about it. "Then there was Lesgle, whose nickname was Bousset. He was the oldest of us, but he was still only twenty-five. He always said that he was notoriously unlucky, a theory which he thought was proven when he started balding. Despite it though, he was quite a cheerful fellow and had an optimistic outlook… I do not think I had ever truly appreciated that aspect of his personality."

"I think I would have liked him too. I used to think that I was also helplessly unlucky... But I must say that I think my fortune has turned lately…"

"Then, there was Grantaire, with whom you may already be more familiar than the others… And of course Combeferre, Joly, and Marius made up the rest of _Les Amis de l'ABC_." Something suddenly occurred to him, "Do you know, Éponine… If it were not for you, Combeferre and Joly perhaps would not have survived either… The only reason they went away from the barricade was to take you to safety… I am so glad you did not die that night, Éponine."

"I am also glad I did not die, Enjolras," she replied with a soft smile. "Thank you for telling me about your friends. I am sorry I did not get to know them, but I am happy that I could hear a little bit of their stories."

"Yes… I must admit that talking to you about them has been good for me too… I do not think I have spoken about them since the barricade."

Éponine watched his expression. He did not look morose, but there was still a sadness in his tone. She did not think he would ever completely stop grieving for his lost friends. She wanted to comfort him… Yes, she wanted to kiss him, but this time she could truly say that desire was less motivated by attraction or romance, but more by a wish to simply provide comfort…

However, she could not quite bring herself to reach out to him… to pull his face to her and just… do it.

So they fell once more into a comfortable silence. Because the hour was late, they soon decided to head back.

As they made their way out of the garden, the crutch that Enjolras was using must have caught on something — a damp piece of grass, perhaps — and it caused him to slip. Thankfully, Éponine had quick reflexes and was able to grab hold of him before he fell.

What ended up happening was that she had caught him under the arms, her hands holding on to sides of his body. He, meanwhile, was bracing himself against her shoulders, so they in effect ended up facing each other almost in an embrace. They were almost nose-to-nose.

And perhaps it was because their position was so close… Perhaps because this had been a long time coming… Perhaps she could no longer ignore the rapid beating of her heart… Perhaps she could not resist the way he was looking at her… Perhaps because for a second when he was looking at her, his eyes had glanced down at her lips…

Perhaps because of it all… She finally thought that this was the right moment… She raised her face… and pressed her lips against his.

The kiss was a short one. It was perhaps more like a peck. She could not even remember if he kissed her back, if he even had time to kiss her back. But she remembered thinking that his lips were impossibly soft, that she could not recall ever having kissed anyone for this brief period of time and yet found herself feeling so much…

When they broke apart and she saw the expression on his face, she suddenly _knew_…

She gave him a smile and said, "That was for caring for me when I was sick. Thank you, Enjolras. No one had ever shown such worry over my health before."

Enjolras was too stunned by what just happened to say anything in reply. Somehow, she did not look too bothered by his lack of reaction though and instead busied herself with getting his crutch back in position again.

They made their way to their room in silence. Éponine still seemed carefree and did not mind that he had not said a word. It made him question whether his mind was playing tricks on him.

It did happen, though, did it not? She definitely _kissed_ him.

And did he…?

He did not know how to feel about it. He was feeling surprised, most of all… But he definitely did not feel… _nothing_.

Somehow they managed to change quickly back to their sleepshirts and got into bed.

"Good night, Enjolras." Éponine said as she extinguished the light on her side. He noticed that she was lying on her side facing him. She had been doing that more lately. It seemed that she had gotten over whatever it was that made her think she should sleep with her back to him.

"Good night, Éponine," he replied a little bit shakily.

In the dark, he could see that she had closed her eyes and possibly gone to sleep immediately. How could she be so nonchalant? It was almost as if she knew something he did not…

Enjolras watched her and tried to sort out what he felt. He tried to assess it using common sense, saying to himself much of what he had already confided to Combeferre. But his intellect must be failing him, because despite his best effort, he found himself… being continually distracted by Éponine's lips. He had an overwhelming desire to run his finger over them, to check whether they were as soft as they had felt earlier, to make sure that he did not hallucinate the kiss…

He stopped himself when he noticed his hand reaching out towards her face... That was when he knew that he must try to get some sleep. He would work it out tomorrow, but for now, he needed the benefit of rest.

So he closed his eyes… And cursed the cast on his leg for preventing him from turning away from Éponine… Because the thought of facing her all night, with her _distracting lips_ nearby, might just guarantee that he would not be falling asleep easily tonight.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Bam! It only took me 17 chapters, but there you go, first kiss! I cannot tell you how long I have had the scene in my head! Kinda short, I know, but do you really think it'll be their last kiss? ;-)

Since the previous chapter was all Enjolras, this one is mostly Éponine. I wasn't entirely sure how I was going to write about her developing feelings for Enjolras, especially given her past with Marius. Somehow, I don't think she would've repeated the cycle, as she is in a different place mentally and her current relationship with Enjolras is in fact different to the one with Marius. I ended up being inspired by a line from the musical that says that she is 'only a kid, but hard to scare'. Éponine does have this fearless quality and not just in terms of her deeds at the barricade. I think, emotionally, she is also not scared to love…

… which brings me to the conversation with Valjean. I think the two of them, more than anybody, know what it is like to be saved by love, so I have wanted them to have that talk for ages. I'm always nervous about writing Valjean, as — being the main character — I could get him wrong so easily. Hopefully I did him justice though.

Same for the rest of _Les Amis_. I haven't mentioned them since the earlier chapters, but it doesn't mean that I (or Enjolras) have forgotten about them. I did some research on their personalities, so hopefully, I've portrayed them accurately enough from Enjolras' point of view.

Confession: If I didn't ship Éponine/Enjolras, I would have so gone for Éponine/Prouvaire (or Éponine/Combeferre, whut?), so there was a _tiny_ bit of it there haha…

And I have since realized that it was possibly Bousset who also had the relationship with Musichetta, but I don't know… Based on the personalities, I can see her liking Bahorel. Sorry, Bousset. Even as a dead fictional character, I have made you unlucky!

As usual, I LOVE reviews. They motivate me to write quicker and sometimes even give me inspiration! But please also follow/favorite if you like this fic! Thanks! :-)


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** Les Misérables and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary: **One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes: **Thanks for all the responses to the previous chapter! I got a bunch of new follows and faves as well, alongside the reviews, so I feel quite appreciated :-). Hope you enjoy this one!

* * *

**Chapter 18**

Éponine still did not bring up the kiss the next morning. The two of them conducted their morning routines as per normal, though Enjolras was decidedly distracted and kept looking at her to see whether she was behaving any differently. She was not.

As he could now sufficiently use both of his hands, he no longer needed her help with bathing, but she still offered sometimes. Today she proposed to wash his hair, but he declined, saying that he could manage himself. The truth was, he was somehow feeling rather uncomfortable with being in close proximity to Éponine at such an intimate setting… His sleep last night was difficult enough.

Éponine just shrugged and left him to it to prepare breakfast.

Enjolras was rather surprised that she was going to pretend that the kiss never happened… Or that it was no big deal at all, as if the two of them just kissed all the time.

That was going to be his strategy.

He could not figure out what to do about these… _beguiling_ thoughts involving Éponine that had been materializing in his brain since last night… A small part of him wanted to indulge and explore this new side of him that he never thought existed… But a larger, more stubborn side of him wanted to bury the thoughts, to keep going with how he had always been. It would be safer… Because if he entertained the possibility that he… _desired_ Éponine, then where would that leave him?

He could not lose control over himself, could he? Give up everything that he thought he knew about himself and surrender to these instincts, which seemed to come out of nowhere? Or was Combeferre correct, that he might be able to have both, a woman and his country? Was that what he wanted?

But about what _she_ wanted? Why was she fine with just kissing him and then not seemingly interested in talking about it? Was the kiss simply motivated by gratitude, like what she said, for what he did for her when she was ill? Was it not a romantic kiss after all? If that was true, it would surely make his world simpler, though for some reason, he would not necessarily be happier about it… Did he wish for it to be a romantic kiss then? If that were so, how was she expecting him to react? How did women normally go about this anyway? Was she waiting for him to make the next move?

Enjolras cursed the fact that he had managed to get himself in a potentially romantic entanglement, despite everything he had previously said on the subject and despite his best efforts to avoid scenarios that might lead to such a thing.

Somehow though… Éponine had managed to slip through his defenses and caught him unawares…

Perhaps he should approach this tentatively… He was not one to do things half-heartedly, but in this case, he might need to test himself. This way, he might satisfy that stubborn part of him that was still clinging to the idea of being immune to romance…

He would try to interact with her as he normally would, see how he felt about it and look for hints as to what she wanted to happen…

If she was not going to bring up the kiss, then he would not either. Perhaps they could pretend that it did not happen after all…

However, this would prove to be more difficult than anticipated, as the knowledge of the kiss had not in fact remained between just the two of them…

When Éponine went into the kitchen in the afternoon, she was met by the happy grin of _Madame _Morel.

"I heard you and your husband took a romantic stroll in the garden last night."

Éponine looked stunned, "What…? How do you know, _Madame_?"

"Do not worry. I will not of course report it to the prioress. Your Émile deserves to enjoy some fresh air too. Poor man, having to remain in his room all day… As to how I know… Two girls from the boarding school came to me this morning, quite excitedly, I may add. Apparently, they had stayed up last night and witnessed the whole thing from their room."

"What did they see?"

"They just said that they watched a young couple talking in the garden… And then they saw a kiss? How sweet, Éponine!"

"Oh no… They will not tell the nuns, will they? Émile is supposed to stay out of sight."

"No, they were not meant to still be up at that hour, were they? They just wanted to know if the two of you really are the visitors that they thought. They have heard that the old gardener is staying in the convent with his grandson and his wife. They previously had very little interest in the matter, but now that they have seen the two of you… Well, I must tell you that they find your Émile extremely handsome, which he really is, Éponine. I think one of them is already in love with him, even though I told them that he is obviously married! You cannot blame these girls though. They never see any young men and especially none as fetching as your husband!"

Éponine was actually not bothered by the fact that some schoolgirls had a crush on her pretend husband… She just rued the fact that she and Enjolras might not be able to repeat their excursion last night as freely as she wanted. She had rather hoped that this could be their new nightly tradition…

"Do they do this often? Stay up, I mean?"

"Well, they are teenage girls. They like to chat, regardless of the early bedtime imposed by the nuns. But you have not heard what I have been meaning to tell you! They asked if I could arrange for them to meet your Émile!"

Éponine frowned, "Surely that is not possible… The prioress strictly forbids it. We cannot go against her wishes and risk making things difficult for Émile's grandfather."

"No… I suppose you are right… But I worry about these girls sometimes, being secluded in this school. They have not seen, moreover spoken to a young man in the entirety of their schooling here. I think they just wish to meet and talk to one."

Éponine remembered what Enjolras had said about the educational system here and how he preferred if the divide between the sexes was dulled. Maybe she should ask what he thought after all? Somehow, she had a feeling that he would not be open to meeting young girls who might be overcome by his good looks…

"Perhaps I could ask Émile…?"

"Yes, discuss it between the two of you. Even if you both said no, I must caution you that these girls are fairly resourceful and might just find a way to your room without an invite."

"Oh no, that is no good…"

"Yes, I am just giving you fair warning, Éponine."

Éponine made her way back to her room carrying dinner for herself and Enjolras. She had already dropped off _Monsieur_ Valjean's meal earlier. As they ate, Éponine wondered if she should tell Enjolras what the _Madame_ had imparted.

"Enjolras?"

"Yes?" He snapped his head up. He was definitely not staring at the line of her neck, at the exposed skin there that led down towards that curve on her chest...

Éponine did not seem to notice where his gaze was and instead looked hesitant. Enjolras wondered if she would finally bring up what happened last night...

And she did, but not to his expectation. She relayed to him what _Madame_ Morel had said.

Fantastic, Enjolras thought. His first experience of being kissed by a young woman and it was witnessed by a pair of girls, who now wished to meet him for some reason.

For all his talk of _égalité_, he decided that he did not understand the female species much at all…

"What do you think, Enjolras?"

"I don't know, Éponine... What do they want with me?" He could not help but feel like an exotic creature about to be displayed to the curious population at the _Ménagerie du Jardin des Plantes_.

"I think they just wish to meet you? They are young girls, so perhaps they simply wish to speak to someone male? Especially since they do not ever encounter one — not one close to their age, at least — living in the boarding school." Éponine was purposely underplaying the fact that the girls also found Enjolras extremely good looking.

Yes, he thought, he definitely would be like an exotic creature to these girls… Well, he did say once that he would support the dulling of the divide between the sexes… "How old are they?"

"I do not know. I would hazard to guess... fourteen, fifteen?"

"That is not precisely close to my age."

"How old are you, Enjolras?"

"I am twenty-two." Something suddenly occurred to him, "And you? How old are you, Éponine?"

"I am seventeen."

"You are barely older than these girls..." Enjolras was struck by how young she was. He supposed he had always known that she was not yet a grown woman, but for some reason it did not fully register with him until he compared her with the girls being schooled here... He felt inappropriate indeed, developing these thoughts about her...

"Yes, but unlike these girls, I have not been sheltered for the past few years... In fact, I have been exposed to certain things that children should never have to see..."

Enjolras had some ideas as to what these things could be and felt quite sad that Éponine had had to experience them. It was no wonder that she acted much more mature than her age… But it still did not make him feel better about having these thoughts about her.

"I am sorry, Éponine."

"It is in the past now… In a way, I am luckier than these girls, who have to arrange with two other people just to speak to a young man, imagine!"

"What do you think they want to speak to me about?"

"Perhaps they just wish to ask what your life is like? I am not sure."

"Do you mean my _fake_ life? As a soldier?"

Éponine suddenly remembered something, "Oh, yes, about that…" She then told him of the story that she had fabricated and shared with _Madame_ Morel. "So if anyone asks, that is how we, uh… fell in love…"

Enjolras watched her in amazement. Was this what she had wished someone had done for her when she was besotted with Marius? Protect her from a broken heart? Well, the two of them did not know each other back then, so he could not have been that person for her… But he must admit that if this happened today — now when he had gotten to know her — he perhaps _would_ have acted like the fictional lieutenant and tried to shield her from hurt…

Was that what he should do now? He recalled his talk with Combeferre… He could not allow Éponine to fall in love with him if he was not certain himself… But she was not acting as if she was enamored with him… He was thoroughly confused as to what he should do.

He apparently had not said anything since Éponine had finished with her tale, because she was looking at him with worry, "Enjolras? I hope you do not mind it?"

"No, it is fine, Éponine."

"Good," she gave him a bright smile. "Now what shall we do about these girls?"

"Well, I do think that they would benefit from being around a member of the opposite sex, though I am not certain this person should necessarily be me. As you can imagine, I do not talk to schoolgirls very often."

"You _are_ the only young man around, Enjolras… And I think you are actually the ideal person to speak with them, as your views on women are quite advanced and perhaps should be shared with them?"

"I should seek to teach them?"

"Why not? They already want to hear what you have to say. And speaking to people and sharing your knowledge are what you do best! Perhaps… This may even test out how you feel about possibly becoming a teacher one day?"

Enjolras could hardly believe that Éponine was encouraging him to speak to other young women. Her behavior was impossible to interpret for him. "Perhaps… Give me some time to think about it. One other thing we must also consider is the risk that this might pose to _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent's stay in this convent…"

"Yes, that is true."

They let the subject dropped then and fell once more into a companionable silence… Well, mostly companionable for Enjolras, as he still could not stop thinking about Éponine's cavalier attitude. She behaved around him as if nothing had changed, but he found himself noticing little things about her…

Like how she bit her bottom lip sometimes when she was thinking… Or the nice flush that appeared on her cheeks when she had just stepped out of the sun… Or how her hand was just _right there _when she slept next to him, that if he moved his hand a little bit, he would be able to touch her fingers with the back of his hand… And her scent! He liked being near her, because she smelled so good, which did not make sense to him, as they were using the same soap.

Still… Despite it all, he did not wish to kiss her again… Did he?

* * *

Éponine and Enjolras had not planned on clandestinely venturing out of their room at night again. It was an unspoken agreement that they would refrain from doing so, at least for a while, as they had not decided on what to do about the schoolgirls. Nevertheless, on the third night, they were lying in bed when Éponine suddenly heard the grumbling of a hungry stomach.

"Was that you, Enjolras?"

"Yes."

"Did I not bring you enough food at dinnertime?"

"Yes, you did. But it has been hours since our meal."

"Why are you not asleep?"

"I am not sure. Perhaps it is all that coffee I have taken to drinking. I think I should ease off on it. It does help me think, but it makes my mind so productive that it does not shut down as easily at night. Why are you not asleep?"

"Because I can feel that you are not."

They were not able to quite see one another in the dark, but they could tell that they were smiling at each other.

"Do you want me to fetch you something to eat?" she asked.

"No, I have a better idea… Could we both go to the kitchen? It will surely be abandoned at this hour."

So that was how they ended up on their second late night excursion in convent grounds. Éponine led him to a part of the kitchen that was farthest from the entrance. If they kept their voices and other noise levels down, they should be able to stay there undiscovered.

"What shall I fix you? What do you wish to eat?" she asked in a low voice, taking stock of what was in the larder.

"Oh no, this time _I _am making _you_ something, Éponine," he whispered back.

"You can cook?" She said it in the very same questioning tone he used a while back when he was surprised by her ability to read.

He did not miss it and felt rather amused. He looked at her in a mock hurt expression, "Of course, I can cook, Éponine! I will have you know that I am not simply a spoiled nobleman's son. I told you once that I questioned why I never had to prepare food myself when eating is an essential part of life. The cook at my house did not initially wish to impart her knowledge to me, saying that it was improper for the master's boy to learn such a feminine skill, but, well, I was very convincing."

Éponine had to chuckle at that, "I do not doubt that."

"I suppose we do not have the luxury to make anything too complex though. Can you show me what is in stock?"

He decided to make _pain perdu_, which was quite easy and so unfortunately would not impress Éponine very much, but he neither had the ingredients nor the time to make anything else.

She tried to help him, but he told her to just sit back and watch, so she did, smiling at this man who kept on amazing her… Who knew that the Greek God-like Enjolras could cook and would be doing so for _her_ in the dead of the night?

It did not take long before a plateful of bread was placed in front of her. It was sprinkled with powdered sugar with jam and butter on the side. It actually looked very appetizing… And tasted delicious too.

"I am impressed, Enjolras. This is very good!"

"Well, it is just fried bread… I must admit that most of the meals I cook are ones that are rather quick to make. I did only learn so that I know how to prepare food for myself. But when I moved to Paris, I ended up being busy with so many activities that at times I forgot to eat or would just do so in a café, so I had not in fact been fixing my own meals very much… You are actually one of the few people that have tasted my cooking."

"Do not sell yourself short. I think you should do it more often."

"That is what I have been telling you, Éponine, but you have stopped me from going to the kitchen…"

"Yes, well, you cannot do it _here_, because of the rules… But perhaps once we leave this place…" She suddenly had an idea, which might be quite daring but she felt like proposing it to him anyway, "How about this, Enjolras? If we are still around each other by my birthday, then I would like you to cook for me as a present."

"When is your birthday?"

"October."

"Mine is also October. What date?"

"The 2nd. And yours?"

"The 21st."

"We are near each other then. I think you should have both of your legs back by September, is that right?"

"I think so."

"And I know that you wish to travel then… So if by some chance, you are able to be back in Paris on October 2nd, then please come and see me. You can cook me anything you like." Of course, she did not know where she herself would be on that date. She had hoped that she would have made the successful transition from _gamine_ to _grisette_ by that time. And, not to be overly optimistic, but there _was_ also the chance that her relationship with Enjolras would have progressed to _something else_ before then…

Enjolras was also thinking along the same line… If he were to be honest, up until now, he had not considered the possibility of being separated from Éponine… which was an astonishing feat for someone as independent as him… She had been such a trusted and easy presence in his life though, that he had neglected to consider the likelihood that she might wish to go her own way once he no longer needed her help. He found that he did not like the thought at all… But now perhaps was not the best time to dwell on it, so he just said to her, "You have got yourself a deal, Éponine. And I would also like to see you on my birthday if you are willing to return the favor? I have rather grown to like your cooking."

"Thank you. Yes, I think that is fair."

They soon finished their meal and started cleaning up. In the process, Éponine must have touched something greasy with her hand, because as they were about to leave, Enjolras noticed a smudge on her cheek.

"Hold still, Éponine."

"Why?"

"Because you have something on your face." To her surprise, instead of pointing out where it was, he reached out a hand towards her and proceeded to rub a spot on her cheek. There was almost a sense of _déjà vu_… But then she remembered doing the same thing to him so long ago, when he had just been brought back from the barricade…

Of course, he was unconscious then… And she did not linger, which was certainly what he was doing now…

Indeed, Enjolras was struck once more by how soft her skin felt… It was so smooth, unlike his own, which always had a trace of stubble, even after he had just shaved… The smudge was gone, but he could not quite bring himself to part from the sensation of _touching_ her…

His finger glided down towards the edge of her lips… And his eyes followed the movement… He felt her breath hitched as his thumb ghosted over her bottom lip… He glanced up to look her in the eyes… It occurred to him suddenly that she had pretty eyes… Somehow, they were also standing very close to each other… As if acting on instinct, he softly grabbed hold of her chin and tilted her face up towards him…

… And then they heard the sound of an almighty crash coming from the other side of the kitchen.

Her heart beating rapidly, Éponine jumped out of his hold and went to see what had happened.

She came back moments later saying that a broom had fallen to the ground. There was no one around though, so perhaps it was knocked over by a rat?

The moment had been sufficiently broken though. Enjolras looked like he had made an effort to compose himself. He suggested that they return to their room in case anyone had also heard the noise and gone to investigate.

As they made their way back, Éponine could not help but feel extremely frustrated. She was certain that Enjolras had finally yielded then…

She had purposely let him be since the kiss, partially because she wanted him to suffer through what she felt when she first became attracted to him, and partially so that he could figure out what was happening by himself. She could not fail to notice the lingering gazes that he was giving her now, even if he did not seem to be doing it consciously. A person as smart as him would have realized what it all meant eventually… And she was certain that he would succumb to it once he did.. But it did seem that she had underestimated his resolve…

So she would have to plan her move carefully, on how she would go about this… But one thing was clear… If she wanted for something to happen between her and Enjolras, then she would have to be more direct and be the one to initiate action.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Sorry, I was a bit evil with the end there, right? I had planned for this chapter to be longer, but decided to split it, because I wanted to focus on Enjolras' reactions to the kiss.

You might notice that I had written most of the chapter from his point of view, with Éponine appearing to be mysteriously cool about the whole thing. The way I see it, even though Enjolras has worked out in the conversation with Combeferre that he may be developing feelings for Éponine, he has so far not been overcome by physical attraction to her. After all, he once said that superficial appearance does not matter to him. So I have purposely planned for his progress to be almost the opposite of Éponine. She started by noticing that Enjolras is good-looking, which moved quickly to being attracted to him, and then realizing that she also has this mental and emotional connection to him, which progressed to romantic thoughts (basically how most people would go about it, right?). With Enjolras, it is the other way around: He first developed an intellectual connection with Éponine and then finding himself able to share with her emotionally as well. Having never experienced this type of bond with a girl before, he simply does not immediately realize what is happening. But the next stage is for him to be drawn, almost by instinct, to her physicality. So unlike most people, I believe that Enjolras will need to genuinely _like_ a girl first before being able to find her physically attractive.

Hope that made sense and that it is a believable trajectory for the whole thing. If nothing else, aren't we glad that Enjolras is finally suffering through what Éponine was feeling at the start of their forced intimacy?

Anyway, the last line of this chapter should tell you where I am going next. I have started writing it, so hopefully it will be up soon.

Research notes: As far as I can tell, the French have been consuming _pain perdu_ ("French toast") since the middle ages. They also had started celebrating birthdays and giving presents by the 19th century. Since É/E's birthdays were not specified, I have chosen to go with Samantha Barks' (Oct 2nd) and Aaron Tveit's (Oct 21st), since the dates also fit with the timeline anyway.

Please review if you can or follow/fave to show your support. Thanks again!


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer:** _Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes:** Wow, I got so much love from you guys for the previous chapter via reviews/PMs/follows/faves. Thanks so much! I may not have the most well-known E/É fic, but I'm extremely appreciative of all the comments, saying that my fic is the one that you're waiting for/your favorite/you re-read often… There was even a guest reviewer who said that they don't ship E/É but want to see them together in my fic! How flattering! Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this one! :-)

* * *

**Chapter 19**

As it turned out, it was not a rat after all that had foiled Éponine's would-be second kiss with Enjolras. She found out the next day from _Madame_ Morel that the same two girls who had spied on them a few days ago had in fact managed to find their way to the kitchen last night as well… Apparently, the girls had been staying up and keeping a watchful eye for the couple to return to the garden. So when Éponine and Enjolras had sneaked into the kitchen instead, the girls had very nearly missed them if one of them, Justine, had not gone to the privy and seen the faint light emanating from the kitchen.

Justine had gone and gotten her friend Gabrielle and the two of them peeked in from behind the door and watched as the couple was finishing their late night snack. Their eyes were peeled to the scene as the handsome man was leaning in to give his wife a kiss… Unfortunately, in her excitement, Gabrielle had accidentally bumped her elbow onto a broom, sending it crashing to the ground and effectively startling the couple. The two girls promptly ran back to their room in a mixture of terror and giggles. They stayed up for most of the night whispering back and forth in excitement about what they had just witnessed.

They considered the whole thing highly romantic, like something out of a book or a poem, this young couple who had to sneak around at night for some intimate time alone… Gabrielle even thought that their names sounded like romantic figures: Émile and Éponine. Justine meanwhile was swooning over how handsome _Monsieur_ Émile was... She thought he looked precisely like all the heroes she imagined from her stories.

Having slightly calmed themselves the next morning, the girls went to see _Madame_ Morel again and told her what they had seen. They were too scared to face the couple last night, but they now begged _Madame_ Morel to please ask again if they could come and see them. Or if the _Madame_ could at least let them know where the couple was lodged, the girls would sneak out to visit them.

Upon hearing this, Éponine was initially quite annoyed that the schoolgirls had interrupted her moment with Enjolras and was keen to plain out deny their request. However, upon thinking it further, she guessed that the girls would not likely ease off on their fascination with the two of them (or rather, with _Enjolras_) until they could met them (more likely _him_) in the flesh.

Moreover, Éponine was actually quite curious about how Enjolras would behave around these young women. She had never seen him with any other females, besides perhaps Musichetta… If she thought back to their interactions, he had always been polite and cordial with her, but was never overly familiar. What was more interesting was that he had never even seemed to notice Musichetta's apparent physical beauty. He did not ever glance at her the way he was looking at Éponine lately, which certainly did wonders to her self-esteem, she must admit. Of course, Musichetta was also _Monsieur_ Joly's sweetheart, so in a way she did not quite count.

She also wanted to know how these girls would take to meeting Enjolras… Éponine had gotten to know him a lot better by now, so she was able to see him as a real man who was not immune to human emotions after all, but who was better than most at controlling them. Nevertheless, she still recalled how she initially perceived him as this God-like figure who appeared untouched by human trivialities and whose purpose in this world was to light the fire of revolution… She wondered if he would still have that effect on those who just met him. Perhaps he would not be as fiery as before, but she expected that he would still exude this charisma that most natural born leaders seemed to possess…

Of course, he was also undeniably handsome, so what would most likely happen was that those girls would just be dazzled by his looks and not be able to listen to a word he said…

For some reason, she did not think the idea would make her jealous. On the contrary, it might actually be flattering to discover just how much other girls also found Enjolras physically appealing. Éponine was not one to be selfish with her love, so she did not think that she was the only one _allowed_ to have attraction or even deeper feelings for Enjolras… Nevertheless, it had been a peculiarity of their relationship that he had never made her feel insecure about the bond between them. Of course, this might be because they had been isolated together with barely anyone else for company. She would like to see how this bond would be tested when Enjolras, in particular, started interacting with other people…

Because of all the reasons mentioned above, Éponine thought that meeting the schoolgirls might turn out to be a very interesting experiment for them all. So she told _Madame_ Morel to let the girls know where to find their lodging. They could come by during their recreation hour tomorrow, though they must take care to avoid being detected, as Éponine wanted to ensure her grandfather-in-law's stay in this convent remained undisturbed.

She told Enjolras later of this plan, saying that this was the only way to get the girls to stop spying on them. It had been them after all who had interrupted their interlude in the kitchen last night…

Éponine watched as Enjolras started to slightly redden all around his face.

_Oh yes, you blush. You know you wanted to kiss me last night_, thought Éponine. It took all her resolve not to just come out and say it, but he also looked rather petrified, so she decided to take pity on him.

"I hope you are fine with the arrangement, Enjolras? I do not think any harm could come from meeting these girls."

"No, I understand your reasoning." He did look relieved that she had not brought up the almost kiss.

"Excellent. Now, since you are using the desk and I would like to compose a few letters of my own, I shall take some paper to the kitchen and use the bench there to write."

Suppressing a mischievous grin, she walked over to where he sat and leaned over from behind to grab some writing paper off the desk. She purposely came in too close so that her side brushed up against his but acted as if she did not notice the contact. She also took her time gathering the stuff that she'd need, so that he had time to gape at her. When she got everything she wanted, she turned back and leaned on the desk, still very close to where he was, looking down on him with a smile.

"You do not need me for anything else right now, do you?"

She was delighted to find that his voice was rather shaky as he answered, "No, no, I shall manage by myself for a while."

He had turned on his chair to face her. His right hand was at the edge of the desk near her left, so she softly touched it and said, "How is your right hand? You are writing fine with it?"

"Yes, I have gained much of my dexterity back."

"I am glad to hear it, though to be quite honest, I had rather liked being your scribe."

"Well… Perhaps I can use your services if I found myself tired from writing too much."

"Is that likely today? What are you writing anyway?" She peeked at the paper on the desk, more as a subconscious act than a desire to be nosy, but he made a discernible gesture to move it out of her sight.

"Nothing. Just a letter to Combeferre."

"Oh, send him my regards."

"Certainly."

"If there is nothing else...?"

"No, please, I do not wish to keep you, Éponine."

"Write well then." As she moved away, she gave him an affectionate squeeze on his shoulder. She could have sworn he jumped a little.

All of these observations she scribbled down in a letter to Musichetta. She had not updated the other girl on her progress with Enjolras since before their late night trip to the garden, so she started by telling her about the kiss. That should make her friend happy...

Éponine paused then to consider whether Musichetta had been sharing the developments with _Monsieur_ Joly... She decided that it would not bother _her_, but she wondered if Enjolras would mind it if his friend knew about his potential love life... Well, there was no helping it now and for all she knew, Enjolras might have been sharing everything with _Messieurs_ Combeferre and Joly anyway...

So she continued to write about their almost kiss last night... And about these schoolgirls who were keen to meet them... Finally, she wrote about what she planned on doing next... It was not as daring as anything Musichetta had suggested, but she hoped it would work anyway... She hoped that the next time she wrote to her friend, she would have more than one kiss to report...

Meanwhile, Enjolras was indeed writing to Combeferre about his predicament with Éponine. He had never been this unsure of anything in his life. He did not often act without a full conviction, but in this matter it seemed that he was feeling himself being pulled in opposing directions. His mind was telling him that he could not let himself lose control, but his instincts were pressuring him to give in. He was unsure of whether he should share with Combeferre about his growing physical attraction to Éponine... He was not quite sure of how to start and he was truthfully rather embarrassed about putting down all of these... _base desires_ on paper.

However, he supposed he could trust Combeferre to be... _serious_ about it. There was a reason why he was his closest friend after all...

So he wrote an abridged version of these... _thoughts_ that had been distracting him... He described his confined intimacy with Éponine as both stifling and alluring. He had been trying his best to ignore it by stubbornly clinging on to his identity as the 'marble lover of liberty', but one of these days he was certain that he would break...

* * *

The following day, the girls came to their door on time. Éponine answered their knock swiftly before any wondering nun or pupil could see them.

Éponine was surprised to find that they were older than she had anticipated. They were possibly sixteen — only a year younger than her — and both were quite pretty. One had fair hair, slim build, and freckles all over her face. The other one was small and petite with brown curly hair and big doe eyes.

They were standing huddled together, holding on to each other's hands. The blonde one had her eyes fixed on Enjolras immediately, while the other one was gazing back and forth between Éponine and Enjolras with this unbelieving smile on her face... But neither one had said anything.

Enjolras was looking at Éponine with a frown, as if he was regretting this meeting already and pleaded with her to get him out of this.

Éponine decided to take charge and introduced herself and 'Émile' to the girls. She went to sit next to Enjolras at the foot of the bed and motioned for the girls to take a seat on the two chairs.

They did so, but remained quietly gawking at them.

Yes, Enjolras thought he now knew how those animals felt when ogled by humans at the _Ménagerie_.

"What are your names?" asked Éponine.

The fair-headed finally snapped out of her daze and stammered her answer, "My name is Justine Babineaux."

"And I am Gabrielle Beauchene," added the other one in a small voice.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, _Mademoiselles_," said Enjolras politely, recalling his well-bred manners. "My wife told me you had asked to meet us?"

"Yes, _Monsieur_... We have never had a... visitor such as yourself stay with us here at the convent... We were curious of the exception..." Justine said with a stronger voice. She was regaining her courage. Her classmates had always said that she was the boldest among them. But considering how these girls were educated, it did not take much for one to be considered bold. As Justine had grown up in the boarding school for most of her life, it was nevertheless quite a feat that she would voluntarily request to meet with an unknown young man and speak to him without averting her eyes.

"I do not know if you have heard the story from _Madame_ Morel, _Mademoiselle_, but my grandfather, _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent, was a gardener here once. I have come to accompany him while I heal from this wound," he indicated the cast on his leg. "However, this _was_ predicated on the condition that I remain in this room and not let myself be seen by any of the convent inhabitants. Obviously, we have broken those rules, so my wife and I would appreciate it if the two of you could be discreet about meeting us?"

"Of course, _Monsieur_!" exclaimed Justine again. "We will also be in trouble if the nuns ever find out."

She was still looking at him as if he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Enjolras was feeling rather unnerved. Thankfully, this girl did not have big eyes like her friend, who had yet to say a word since uttering her name, but who was thankfully not staring at him in an equally intense measure. She was still splitting her glance, which was more furtive than Justine's, between Enjolras and Éponine.

"If you do not mind me asking, Monsieur," said Justine tentatively but with a curious expression on her face. "How did you injure your leg? Does it hurt still?"

Enjolras was ready for this. He told her that he had been shot during the recent June uprising. Out of interest, he asked if she had heard about this event? She had not. Well, he continued, the bullet had shattered a part of his leg bone, so he would have to wear this cast and stay off his right foot for a few months.

"You are a soldier then, _Monsieur_? Madame Morel mentioned that you are one." Justine could not help but thought of this fact as highly romantic. She had visions of him as a courageous warrior fighting on the battlefield, perhaps for the love of a woman…

"Well, I _was_ one… I was a lieutenant and led other soldiers… But having been injured and… having seen many deaths recently, I am thinking of a change in profession."

"What shall you do, _Monsieur_?"

"I do not know yet…" Enjolras turned to Éponine then and said with a smile, "My wife here wants me to be a teacher."

Éponine had quite liked being referred to several times by Enjolras in the past few minutes as 'his wife' and she beamed even further at his last comment, "Yes, Émile is very smart. He is a big reader and has even taught me several things from his books." She gestured distractedly towards the bookshelf.

"Would you mind showing me, _Madame_?" The other girl, Gabrielle, finally spoke in a small voice and looked at Éponine directly.

The two of them seemed to realize that Justine would not be deterred from lavishing her full attention on Enjolras and thought that perhaps they should leave her to it.

Éponine gave Enjolras an apologetic smile and a soft squeeze on his knee, but then got up with Gabrielle and moved to stand near the bookshelf.

"I apologize for Justine's behavior, _Madame_," said Gabrielle in a low voice. "I am afraid that when she fixates on something, she sees little else. But she really has no ill intention towards yourself or your husband."

"No, it is fine. I understand. How about yourself, _Mademoiselle_? You do not wish to ask Émile some questions?"

"Justine will monopolize the enquiry anyway and I assure you that she will relay to me later every word that he says."

"I see..."

The girl looked rather embarrassed suddenly, "_Madame_... I would also like to apologize for… interrupting your time with your husband in the kitchen the other night. It was me who accidentally knocked over the broom. I did not mean to. I was very clumsy." She was blushing quite thoroughly.

"Do not worry, _Mademoiselle_... We should not have been there in the first place."

"Oh, but it is so romantic!" Gabrielle had replied so quickly and rather excitedly that she gave a little gasp and demurely covered her mouth with her hand. Éponine was beginning to see how Cosette had developed her soft, gentle, and virtuously _feminine_ mannerisms from having grown up in this convent. There was indeed something about Gabrielle that reminded her of 'the lark'.

"I hope you do not mind me saying so, _Madame_," the girl said again in a small voice. "But I think you and your husband make such a _beautiful_ couple. It is quite apparent how much you _love_ each other."

Éponine was very appreciative, though a bit thrown by the statement. Despite the boost in confidence that she had been feeling lately, she was still fully aware of the reality that she was much less _beautiful_ than Enjolras, that people who saw them as a couple might be wondering what a handsome man like him was doing with her... However, Gabrielle had looked very earnest indeed when she gave her opinion, so Éponine replied with a genuine smile, "Thank you, _Mademoiselle_. I really appreciate you saying so."

"_Madame_ Morel said that the two of you have a wonderful story on how you met and that I should ask you to relay it to me if you would not mind?"

Well, it was the least that Éponine could do to indulge this girl's sweetly romantic mind, so she told her of the fabricated love story between Éponine and the kind lieutenant. She glanced over once in a while at Enjolras. The girl Justine was listening to him speak with rapt attention and an admiring gaze. Éponine could not quite make out what he was saying, but his expression showed that he was all business, looking like the handsome marble statue whose default emotions seemed to waver between stoicism and a deep passion for his causes. There was no trace of the variety of expressions that Éponine had been seeing on his face lately, especially when he was looking at her...

"Oh, that is indeed a marvelous tale, _Madame_!" Gabrielle exclaimed when Éponine had finished talking. The girl was looking rather dreamy. "Imagine! You were actually enamored with another man before. I do so love it when faith intervenes like that... Do you know what became of _Monsieur_ Marcellus? Perhaps it concerns you no longer…"

The girl's enquiry of 'Marcellus' had successfully distracted Éponine from her observation of Enjolras. She thought for a minute on what she would say, "Oh, I believe he has married his sweetheart and retired to his childhood home." She was rather amazed to find that the thought of Marius only brought on a faint unpleasant feeling. There was no longer that hurt that she used to feel... In fact, her line of thought moved on from Marius to Cosette very quickly. She remembered what Enjolras' ruse was in relation to Cosette, "By the way, _Mademoiselle_, would you happen to know Émile's sister? She used to attend school here as well, though she left a few years ago. Her name is Cosette. She might have been in your year or the year above."

"No, I do not believe I do. But I have only been enrolled in this school for a short while. Where is she now?"

"She is busy preparing for her wedding, I suspect… She is engaged to a nice _bourgeois_ boy."

"Then she is marrying quite young, is she not? I cannot imagine being married at my age…" To Éponine's surprise, the girl grew more serious as she continued talking, "I am not even sure if I wish to be married at all... I am contemplating the life of a nun, though perhaps not at this convent, as they are very strict here. The thought of being with a man and... the _duties_ that are attached to being a wife rather frighten me, if I am to be honest. Especially if my parents choose to marry me to someone I do not love. As you may have guessed, I am desperately _romantic_ to a fault! If I cannot marry for love, then I would rather not marry at all… How do you find being married, _Madame_? I cannot help but notice that you are rather young yourself."

"Well…" Éponine was not quite sure of how she was going to give romance and marital advice when she was actually inexperienced in both, "I think you are right, _Mademoiselle_, that it is better when you marry someone you love. The commitment and the duties that you mentioned are not as frightful. But of course not everyone has the luxury to choose who to marry..."

Gabrielle only nodded at that and turned her attention to the books on the shelf, "So what do you like to read, _Madame_? I myself am a great consumer of love stories, as you can imagine."

"Like you, I am also a romantic, so I am reading back and forth between _Julie, or the New Heloise_ and _Éponine et Sabinus_."

"Oh yes! Now I remember! My grandmother once told me that her best trip to the opera was to see a performance of _Éponine et Sabinus_. It is no wonder your name sounds terribly romantic to my ear, _Madame_. It is a _lovely_ story."

"Yes, I suppose my _maman_ had a romantic heart after all... My _husband_, though, does not favor romantic works at all, so he tells me to read some of these other books. They _are_ quite difficult, so I am getting him to help me understand them better. I must admit though, that once I do, I find these books highly interesting."

"What books are these? Which one is your favorite, _Madame_? As you would expect, we are not exposed to a wide variety of literary works at school. I had to sneak in most books that are currently in my possession."

Éponine could hardly believe that _she_ was asked to make a book recommendation. She looked at the titles, most of which she had not read enough to know their full content, but one book jumped out straight away, "I think this one by the _Marquis_ de Condorcet is my favorite. Perhaps I am sentimental, but this is the first ever book that Émile helped me learn… Nevertheless, it does contain an important idea that I try to keep very close to my heart."

"Which is?"

"That every person is capable of independent thought and self-improvement."

Gabrielle was quiet for a while, "That is certainly interesting… Perhaps I should find some way to read it too."

"I would lend you the book, _Mademoiselle_, but it is the only copy we have and we still refer to it often..."

"Oh no, do not fret, _Madame_. I have ways to obtain books for myself..."

"Knowing my husband," and Éponine got another thrill here, referring to Enjolras as her husband, "I suspect _Mademoiselle_ Justine will also leave here with some book recommendations."

"Then, she better pay attention. Perhaps we should re-join their conversation?"

The girls did not stay long after that, as they only had an hour for their recreation. They asked to come back and to visit again soon though. Éponine was surprised to see that Enjolras did not seem to mind much.

After they had gone, she asked him what he had talked about with _Mademoiselle_ Justine. Well, he said that he did most of the talking, as the girl was keen to interview him, initially asking odd questions, such as what his favorite food was. However, he thought that he did get through to her at some point and that he was able to even express some of his views on her education here at the convent. As Éponine had expected, he even managed to suggest a few books for her to read.

Éponine was happy to see that Enjolras was looking rather rejuvenated by the talk. The young woman might not have been the type that would make up his regular audience, but she was still an ear which could hear his words and a mind which he could mold… Just how much this girl Justine was willing to learn from Enjolras was yet to be seen though...

Her friend Gabrielle was very sweet, Éponine thought. She told Enjolras how her conversation went with the other girl, how she managed to even make a book recommendation of her own.

Enjolras was amazed and felt even rather proud to hear that Éponine had picked Condorcet as her favorite among all the books that he had gotten her to read.

"See, don't we make quite a _couple_, Enjolras, secretly getting these girls to read things that are surely not being taught by the nuns at school?" asked Éponine. She had purposely used the word 'couple' to see what he would say.

"Yes, I suppose..." As expected, he did not miss it. The look of conviction disappeared from his face, to be replaced by one of uncertainty, which was one of the variety of expressions that Éponine had been noticing on his visage lately.

She began to feel doubtful about going through with her plan... Why was this so difficult for him? Was deciding whether or not he wanted to be with her really that taxing?

She felt a bit a frustrated, so she decided to take a walk and then perhaps see _Madame_ Morel to tell her how it had gone with the girls.

Enjolras watched her leave, feeling relieved that she had not decided to comment further on this... _tension_ between them. He had a feeling that it would not be too long before it all came to a head though.

* * *

Well, Enjolras was not wrong… Éponine was finally presented with an opportunity to execute her plan the following afternoon.

The girls were not due for a visit, so the two of them were just sitting around, casually running through her lesson. He was again sitting on the bed while she was at the desk, her notebook open in front of her, alongside other books that he had gotten her to pull from the shelf.

Éponine could not even remember how the conversation began. Perhaps she was commenting on what Gabrielle had said yesterday, about how she would rather become a nun than marry someone she did not love. Éponine said that in a way she understood it, that she was not religious herself, but if she had no romantic prospects in her future, no other love, no commitments, and no other purpose in her life, then perhaps she would not mind devoting herself to God as well… Like Gabrielle, she thought that the _Petit-Picpus_ nuns were much too strict, but there were other convents that were more lenient…

And then she did not know what came over her and where she had the gall to say what she said next, but she blurted it out all the same, "Of course, I think I would find it extremely difficult to adhere to a vow of chastity. I suspect I would miss the physical act of love too much."

Éponine wanted to kick herself, but she also did not. She wished to be shocked for Enjolras, while also undeniably curious as to how he would react. She would hazard to guess that he had never dreamed that a seemingly decent girl in his company would say such words to him. Well, Éponine did not spend time in the streets for nothing… She was certainly no proper upper class lady that grew up with him. Her heart was beating rapidly as she turned to look at Enjolras.

He was indeed looking quite stunned, though thankfully not offended. He was not quite sure of how he could _possibly_ respond to that statement. What was this that he was feeling? There was shock, undoubtedly, but there was also… a little bit of intrigue? Still, his intellect was stubbornly telling him to focus. Had he not been around other young women yesterday and managed to act with them as he had in the past? Had he not felt revitalized yesterday, when he could speak a little of his beliefs, to try and sway the girl's mind with his words? Did this not show that he wanted to return to that state where he was an orator and a revolutionary leader? To achieve it, he surely must focus his attentions away from… _worldly things_. He could not afford to be diverted from this path…

"Éponine…" he started cautiously, fully intending to be strong on his stance, but she cut him off before he could say anything further.

"I do not regret what I said, Enjolras. I am undeniably human after all… Perhaps it is different for you. I know that you are not quite religious, but if you are, then perhaps _you_ would have no issue with taking up the priesthood and its the vow of chastity. You are possibly doing so already, as this _patria_ of yours seems to be your religion."

"Éponine, that… is not far from the truth."

"Would you mind telling me one thing though? Can you honestly tell me that you would not at all miss _it_?"

Enjolras did not need to be told what 'it' was. He did not quite know how to tell her the truth though. "Well, Éponine… I must say that I do not believe this is a conversation that is quite _decent_ for us to have… But if you must know… I have taken every care to avoid all emotional as well as all _physical_ romantic entanglements… I have been quite successful in doing so for the entirety of my adolescent and adult life. I do not expect that this would change."

And something snapped within Éponine then. Perhaps it was because he was being so stubborn when she _knew_ he felt otherwise… Or perhaps it was because she finally had confirmation that in this matter, Enjolras was entirely clueless… "If I am to understand your meaning… And I think we know each other well enough for me to speak plainly to you, Enjolras… Am I correct in assuming that you have never been with a woman?"

He was looking at her with all the concentration he could muster to keep his face impassive, "Correct."

She smiled at him then, "Well, then I am rather disappointed in you, Enjolras! No wonder you could say that you would not miss it. How could you miss something you have never had? For all your talk of the 'scientific method', you have not actually taken it upon yourself to experience this one vital aspect of life and make a judgment for yourself on whether or not it is necessary for you." Her eyes widened suddenly. "Does this mean that you have never kissed anyone either?"

Enjolras looked at her with a frown. He had not said anything during her outburst, but she was sure to bring up the kiss now. He was not to be disappointed.

"I know that _I_ kissed _you_ the other night," continued Éponine. "But I do not believe that you kissed me back, so yes, I would hazard to guess that you have never kissed anyone?"

Enjolras internally groaned and finally said, "I just do not understand why this is such a 'vital aspect of life' — as you said — for a person to experience. Plenty of people throughout history had lived with a vow of chastity and had been unbothered by it, so it must not be as vital as you think."

"Yes, perhaps for _some people_ they are not as vital, but I have been watching you for some time now, Enjolras… And I do not think you are as alike to them as you would like to think."

Enjolras felt a bit anxious. So she had noticed him staring then... And she was surely going to bring up how _he_ almost kissed _her_ in the kitchen…

However, Éponine was not that cruel. She had no intention to embarrass or to shame him after all... She just wanted him to be honest with himself about his attraction to her… So she decided to go in another way… He _did_ say once that he would not be taken by a _passive_ woman…

"I will tell you what, Enjolras… I will make you a wager…"

She stood up from her seat and started walking towards him, "I will kiss you again."

He looked up at her now with his eyes wide, but she stopped neither her movement nor her speech, "All you have to do is to refrain from kissing me back. Just be that 'marble statue' that you are known to be and simply… do not respond…"

She took a seat next to him at the edge of the bed so that they were face-to-face, "If you manage to do so, then you win the bet and I will not raise this topic ever again…"

She took his hand then and moved a little bit so that her hip was touching the side of his encased thigh, "If, however, you kiss me back, then, well… I win." She finished off with a wide smile.

She leaned forward then, inching her face closer to his... She was delighted to see that despite everything he just said, he had not shrugged her off or pushed her back.

Enjolras felt panic… She was so close and he felt powerless to do anything about it, felt that he did not _wish_ to do anything about it. Finally, when she was centimeters away, when he could see every one of her eyelashes, he managed to croak out, "Éponine, I do not think this is such a good idea."

"Well, you have two free hands now, Enjolras. Feel free to stop me anytime."

But he did not. He let her close the gap between them…

He felt her lips being pressed to his again… They were precisely as soft as he had remembered…

But he managed to remain unmoving.

Éponine was feeling rather disappointed to find Enjolras unresponsive. She still liked the sensations that the kiss was evoking for _her_, but at the same time, she felt frightful that she was incorrect about Enjolras… That he really was utterly uninterested in this aspect of a romantic relationship… That he had not in fact been attracted to her at all…

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Éponine broke the kiss, not willing to catch his eyes.

"Well, it seems that I am wrong about you after all, Enjolras," she said sadly.

And there it was… He had won, really. His logical brain was telling him that he was free to move on now, to put this _attraction_ business behind him… But somehow…

When he saw her holding her head and about to move away, he just could not let her go…

That kiss was much too brief in his opinion.

He had felt her lips on his too quickly… Her intoxicating scent was clouding his brain and he wanted more of it… He wanted even to taste her…

So before she could get up, he grabbed hold of her wrist with his right hand…

And with his left, he cradled her face and pulled her in…

He did not even know how to do this, not precisely, but his instincts took over… He captured her lips with his own and simply… _kissed _her.

Éponine was delighted to find, firstly, that she was correct about Enjolras, and secondly, that he was as passionate in his kissing as he was about everything else that he had set out to do…

Their lips moved slowly against each other initially, as if testing how they would feel being pressed together, but the kiss soon grew deeper… and a little more urgent.

His left hand was caressing her cheek, freely exploring the skin that he had found so amazingly soft the other day in the kitchen. He felt his pulse quickening and his stomach twisting. There was also this odd, thrilling sensation that was going down his spine… He let go of her wrist and moved his right hand to her waist, pulling her even closer to him.

With both her hands freed, Éponine placed them against his chest and felt the nice muscles there. He sighed a little and slid his other hand down from her face, past the shoulder, and to her back, tracing down the curve of her spine.

Éponine shivered a little and put her arms around his neck, hands tangling in his hair.

Enjolras quite enjoyed the feel of her hands in his hair. He thought that the next time she offered to wash his hair, he would certainly not say no.

When they finally broke apart, they did not immediately pull away from each other. Their foreheads were still touching and they were breathing quite heavily.

Éponine still had her hands on the sides of his neck and she finally broke the silence with a voice full of mirth, "Well, what do you know… I guess marble breaks after all."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Muahahaha... I have been imagining that kiss in my head ever since I started writing this! Hope you like it :-). That tension between them needed to finally break, I think... Pretty sure it was mentioned in the book that Enjolras had never kissed anyone on the lips, right?

I must admit that I don't like adding in original characters, but I think Justine and Gabrielle are needed for the story. I based Justine on an Enjolras fangirl/fanboy and Gabrielle on an E/É shipper, haha... No intention to mock though, as I'm pretty much both myself! (And also an Éponine fangirl).

Anyway, these girls have a purpose, don't you worry. I am a big believer in the "Chekhov's gun" theory when I write. That is, I do not introduce anything without having a purpose for them ;-).

Still, I do realize that my chapters tend to be very long. It's because I always want to progress the story along with every update. This is why it takes me a while to post a new chapter. But I wonder what you guys prefer. Do you want me to break up my chapter and update quicker or upload it as a whole so that you guys have an extra long chapter to read every time?

Reviews motivate me to write quicker, but I do appreciate all the new faves/follows that I get. Or if you like this story and you are on livejournal and tumblr, then perhaps I could ask you to promote it there, as I think they have E/É communities? _Merci_! xoxo


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: **_Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary: **One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras. Also contains Joly/Musichetta and Combeferre/Enjolras/Joly friendship.

**Author's Notes:** Holy moly! That was the most reviews I've ever had on a single chapter. Thank you so much! I got so many flattering responses via reviews and PMs, so hopefully I don't disappoint! I also received plenty of new follows/faves, so I can only assume that some of you promoted this fic in tumblr/livejournal. Thanks so much again! Btw, if anyone is artistically inclined and would like to do a cover art, feel free to send it to me :-). I will gladly display it and credit you of course!

Anyway, every one of you said that you preferred to read a longer chapter, so I fully intended on uploading this chapter as I originally wrote it. However, my draft is already 9000+ words! It just contained too much for me to upload it all in one go. So I had to split it. I have only managed to edit this first part, but I have finished with the entire draft, so the next part(s) should come very soon.

* * *

**Chapter 20**

It had been two days and Éponine had not kissed him again…

That was what had been running in Enjolras' mind non-stop for the past two days…

After… _what happened_… for some reason he thought that she would want to kiss him again, make it a habit even, but… she did not. Instead, like after the first time that she kissed him, she was again acting fully composed, completely at ease with being around him.

He was not sure of what to do next… How would people normally go about these things? Would they have a talk and agree that, yes, they were romantically involved? Or would they just… act out whatever romantic gestures occurred to them?

He and Éponine had not done anything beyond kissing, but even _he_ was aware that there was a… natural progression to these things… He was not even sure if he was ready for it… Or if he wanted to go there at all…

But he certainly wanted to kiss her again…

But she seemed to be finished with making the first move. Should he initiate the next one? How should he do this? Should he just grab her and… do it? Or would he need to ask her permission first?

Granted, he did not know much about these things, but he would have guessed that having finally kissed her, he would have felt an easing of the tension between them...

Well, it seemed to have worked for her, but not for him.

He could hardly keep his mind focused on anything else. His physical attraction had escalated to such a point that his thoughts were oftentimes too… _indecent_ to contemplate...

He could hardly stay in the same room with her while she bathed, for example... which was silly because he had been here all this time and there was nowhere else to which he _could_ go. And it was not as if she was... flaunting her nakedness. She stayed entirely behind the screen and he could not see anything anyway. But it was the thought that she was just right there, entirely unclothed… It was highly distracting.

And the curve of her body! He did not know why he never noticed it before… When she lay there on her side as she slept, he found himself mesmerized by that dip at her waist that rose up on each side to the... swells of her hip and her chest...

He could not understand why he found it so fascinating and why he wanted to follow the curve with his hand...

He began to understand why his friends used to be so preoccupied with the subject of women. He still believed in equality between the sexes and he could still speak with women in general as he always had — as he continued to hold audience with _Mademoiselles _Justine and Gabrielle —but when it came to the one woman in whom he was… _interested_, logic and comprehension seemed to spectacularly fail. He wished now that he had another man with whom he could discuss these things. He was still having frequent chats with _Monsieur_ Valjean, but he did not think that they had the kind of relationship that would allow him to ask for love advice.

Combeferre had not replied to his recent letter, so he wrote another one that simply said, "_I kissed Éponine. Now what_?"

Thankfully for Enjolras, Combeferre's reply arrived soon with Musichetta, who came to the convent the following Saturday. Apparently, the _grisette_ had wanted to visit her friend straight away after receiving her last letter. It had been a while since they had seen each other anyway. Éponine had had to scramble to obtain the prioress' permission, but she thankfully managed to do so in time.

Musichetta greeted Enjolras with a neutral expression, showing no trace that she knew anything of what Éponine had told her. She handed him a stack of envelopes tied with a string and passed on Joly's message that he was keen to see Enjolras when it was time for the latter to get his leg cast removed. Enjolras thanked her politely and the two girls left to chat outside.

The letter from Combeferre was at the top of the pack and Enjolras opened it first. It started with his friend saying that he was, above all, overjoyed to hear that Enjolras had progressed the relationship with Éponine.

"_Apologies for not having replied to your previous letter, _mon ami_. I had partially composed it, but then heard that Musichetta was going to the convent anyway, so decided to send it with her. I have combined my initial reply with the one for the latest note you sent me, which I must say was rather too short, was it not, Enjolras, for me to gauge what it is precisely you are asking?_"

Enjolras paused reading here and frowned. He could almost visualize Combeferre holding back a smile. He read on.

_"Do you mean to ask me what you should do in general, as in whether I think you should now pursue a romantic relationship with Éponine? Or are you asking more in a basic sense, as in what generally comes after two people have kissed each other? Or do you wish to know how a gentleman typically progresses things romantically with a lady once he has kissed her?_

_Knowing you, it is possibly all of the above? If your last, curt note was any indication, I do believe that you are eager for my advice, so I shall attempt to provide you with my best, most thorough response, if I could manage it._

_You are fortunate that I am a contemplative fellow, Enjolras, though I must say that I had not imagined that I would be contemplating __your__ love life, out of anyone's._"

Enjolras paused again. Yes, Combeferre was certainly laughing at him by this point, though he supposed… He could not really blame him, could he?

"_First of all, let us start with the easy one. What generally comes after two people have kissed each other…_"

Enjolras looked up from the page with narrowed eyes. He could not believe that Combeferre was…

Yes, he certainly was…

He was describing — as Éponine phrased it — "the physical act of love". Granted, he wrote about it using… _biological_ terms, as a physician would explain to his patient — and in a way, Enjolras was ever more relieved for Combeferre's medical approach, as it was less… _pornographic_ — but he could not also help but feel rather insulted.

He was not a child. Though he had never contemplated it for himself — not until… _recently_, that is — he was aware of all the… _mechanisms_ that were involved.

However, if he were to be fair… He supposed, how would Combeferre have known that? Out of the many conversations that he'd had with his dearest friend — or with any of their friends, really — he had never once participated in one that would indicate that he had any knowledge on the subject.

He continued reading Combeferre's letter, skimming through all the parts that he already knew but was somehow making him a bit hot under the collar.

"_Most traditional men and women do not often engage in the act until after they are wedded, but I am of the opinion that times have progressed to such an extent that this does not necessarily have to be the case. It is certainly not scientifically proven that love and commitment are necessary precursors for two people to enjoy the act, so as such, I do believe that a woman should also be able to progress her relationship with a man to this stage, prior to marriage, if she so wishes. If I have graced young ladies' beds with my presence prior to matrimony, then I certainly cannot be a hypocrite and demand that my future wife has come to me 'untainted'. I am sure you will agree with me, Enjolras, that __this is _égalité.

_But I digress. Women are different to us in that they may be saddled with the responsibility of a pregnancy and have their child declared a 'bastard' if they lie with a man outside of marriage, so I suppose what I am trying to say is that when you are romantically involved with a young lady, you should always respect her wishes and not pressure her into anything with which she feels uncomfortable._

_I do not think I know Éponine well enough to be able to comment on her views on the matter, so the best thing for you to do is simply to speak plainly with her and ask her of her expectations. Of course when she asks, you should also be honest and tell her how you feel about the matter, even if the truth is that you desire her."_

Combeferre wrote it in such a straightforward manner, claiming that Enjolras simply '_desired_' Éponine, but _was_ it really that simple? He thought about it for several minutes, but only managed to entertain those thoughts that had been making him feel embarrassed to be around Éponine. He decided to see what else Combeferre had to say.

"_As to the next matter, concerning how a gentleman typically establishes a romantic relationship with a young lady, well, there are several ways. One may do the traditional courtship, which I am certain even you know what is involved. This is where we would go to the young lady's parents and request their permission to visit with their daughter. I suppose I would call this the Marius and Cosette approach. Or if the young lady is independent of her parents' care, then one may simply try to charm her with compliments, poetry, love letters, what-have-you, and then invite her out for some romantic activities that she would enjoy, such as dining or the opera. Let's call this the Joly and Musichetta method._

_Your situation, however, is rather too unusual for you to implement either one of these conventions. One, you are already living with the _mademoiselle_ as man and wife. Two, her parents are out of the picture — or have at least signed themselves out of caring for her — and you have been co-habitating with their daughter anyway, regardless of their consent. And three, even if you wish to take Éponine out on the activities I mentioned above, you simply cannot. __Please promise me that you will remain in hiding at the convent, Enjolras__._

_As such, it seems that the solution for this enquiry is the same as the previous, in that you simply need to speak candidly with Éponine to find out how she feels about being in a romantic relationship with you._

_I have left the next matter to last, as I think this is the most difficult for me to answer. Do I think you __should__ progress things romantically with Éponine? If I did not know Éponine at all and I am just basing it on everything that you have told me, then yes, I certainly would highly encourage you to do so. _

_I would repeat what I said when I last saw you, that I think this is a 'breakthrough' for you to be able to feel this way about a young lady. It is a glorious feeling, Enjolras. I would not dissuade any man from embracing it._

_And I do not think that this is merely a case of forced intimacy breeding close feelings between two random people. I do think that in some ways, Éponine is ideally suited to you. As you said, your attraction to her is beyond physical. You admire her mind, appreciate her caring nature, and connect with her emotionally. In fact, until your last letters, I had not thought that you had, or were even capable of, such strong physical attraction towards a young woman, but I am certainly, __without any mockery__, happy about it._

_So if you are simply asking me, from an objective point of view, whether or not I think __you yourself__ wish to be romantically involved with Éponine, then the answer is yes._

_However, there are two things you must consider._

_Firstly, you must think about how Éponine as your romantic partner would fit into the future that you see for yourself. I know more than anybody that you have not given up on your fight — and I will be right by your side whenever you return to it, _mon ami_ — but you should be aware that there will be certain concessions that you must be willing to make when you are romantically involved with someone. You cannot simply be as independent and as careless with your life as you used to be, as you are now not living only for yourself but for her as well._

_At this point, I shall clarify that I still fully stand behind what I said before, that I believe there is a way you can be with Éponine __and__ still commit to your fight. I think her presence in fact has the potential to make you a better leader and fighter, though perhaps not in a way that you originally envisioned for yourself. I notice that your writings and your views have changed lately and I think for the better. You are more practical and temperate while still being highly inspirational. I can only assume that this is Éponine's influence, based on what you sometimes told me she said in your lessons._

_I suppose if you could indulge me a little romanticism, I think she can be your muse_.

_However, with that said, here is the second thing you must consider. And I only say this to be thorough in my advice and not because I have concrete evidence for saying so. Éponine was quite in love with Marius. I do not know how you feel about this or whether you have thought about it at all, but I think we can agree that this is the truth. Now, there is a chance that she still loves him or will always love him. Will you be fine with it? _

_I must say that it is rather surreal for me to be asking if you would be jealous of Pontmercy, but, yes, that is essentially what I am asking. If Éponine's feelings for you turn out to be shades lighter than what she feels for Marius, can you accept it?_"

Enjolras frowned then, thinking that he would not quite like it if Éponine still had… _devoted feelings_ towards Pontmercy.

The realization threw him. He never expected he could ever feel possessive over a person, but if he were to be honest with himself, that was how he felt about Éponine, was it not? Logically, he had no right to be so, as he himself was still splitting his… _fondness_ for her with the deep passion that he had for his country.

Combeferre only had a little bit more to say from what he could tell, so Enjolras turned back once more to the letter.

"_You should know, Enjolras, that Marius is in the dark about your feelings for Éponine. We have seen him once since you left and he of course enquired as to how you and Éponine were, so we had to tell him that you went into hiding and that Éponine had accompanied you in a caretaker capacity. He was rather surprised to hear that she had gone with you, but he did not suspect anything otherwise. In fact, he did say that he could not imagine a more unusual pair of people to spend much time together, but did not seem to give it much more thought. And of course, he did not tie your egress with that of his future father-in-law. I am sure you will not be surprised to hear that Marius is now officially engaged to _Mademoiselle _Cosette._ _I believe Musichetta will impart this news to Éponine when she visits._

_Speaking of Musichetta though, I said 'we' earlier when mentioning the run-in with Marius, because I am apologetic to say that Joly knows much of the development between you and Éponine. And I wish I could say that he found out most of it from Musichetta (I have no doubt that Éponine shares with her about what has been happening there; it is just a fact that you have to get used to that women generally talk to each other about their love affairs), but unfortunately I must come clean and tell you that it was me who told him the details. In my defense, Enjolras, he tricked me. It appears that Musichetta has insinuated that there was something developing between the two of you, but she has been refusing to betray Éponine's confidence and provide him with the details. So he came to me, guessing that you have been sharing with me, and pretended that he already had knowledge of it from Musichetta._

_Well, let's just say that I am glad he is far away from you, as he is looking quite smug about the whole thing. But I will let him tell you himself in his own words, as he insisted on adding a whole page to this letter. I have purposely placed it at the back._"

Enjolras flipped through the sheets of paper and, sure enough, there was a page written in Joly's handwriting appended to the back of Combeferre's letter. Enjolras internally groaned. He suspected he knew what Joly would say…

But he would finish Combeferre's letter first.

"_One last thing I should mention, Enjolras, and it is unfortunately bad news. Your father has written to me again (I've included his letter in the pack that Musichetta brought_)."

Enjolras quickly looked at the other envelopes and, indeed, there was one addressed to Combeferre's dwelling in his father's hand. This was not going to be good…

_"It appears that he has written to the University to enquire about your so-called trip to Algeria. As you could imagine, the school has replied saying that they have no knowledge of your participation in such an excursion. So he has written to me asking very sternly if I know where you actually are. I have written back saying that I am certain that you are in Algiers, that the University must have confused their records of you, and that I have also received a letter from you. I do not know how convinced he would be of my assurances though, so I am giving you fair warning that he may look into this further._"

Yes, this was was bad news, Enjolras thought. There was only so much Combeferre could say and so many lies he himself could tell before his parents caught on. He wondered if he could forestall his father coming to Paris until after the cast on his leg had been taken off. That way, he could travel home and… then what? Try to explain things? Tell them how he almost died trying to overthrow the government and how, as a result, he had become a fugitive with a warrant out for his arrest? He was not sure of how he would go about this yet…

And what of Éponine? He could not imagine how he would introduce her to his parents…

He decided to postpone thinking about the whole matter by reading Joly's letter first. At least this would not contain bad news…

Joly started off by cheerfully thanking Enjolras for allowing him to win a wager with Combeferre. Enjolras groaned. This was not going to put him in a better mood, but he persisted anyway.

"_Right after you had left with the _Mademoiselle_, Enjolras, I told Combeferre that romance would certainly develop between the two of you before long_. _He said that it was highly unlikely, saying that he had known you for a long time and had never once seen you even acknowledge the existence of a young lady. _

_Well, we proved him wrong, did we not?_

_But all jesting aside, _mon ami_, I am extremely delighted to hear that you are finally experiencing the sheer joy and overwhelming terror involved in falling in love! For you, perhaps it is more the terror that you are feeling?_

_Combeferre has possibly provided you with all the sage advice that you would find most useful, so I will just speak of it briefly, drawing from my own experience, and hope that it may give you a different but also helpful perspective._

_I will start by saying that you are a powerfully inspiring leader, Enjolras. There is no other man I admire more. I have a feeling at times that you had done this before in a past life, that this was not the first time you stood before a revolutionary landscape._

_At the same time though — and feel free to call me a worrywart, because I am about to prove true my moniker — I often __worry__ about your tendency to take the weight of the world on your shoulders, as if you alone are responsible to correct all the wrongs in it, that if you do not dedicate your entire existence to it, you will be at fault. While this makes you an inspiring leader (and I certainly find your resolve admirable), I think you can be too hard on yourself, to the point that you would crush the side of you that is human after all._

_We used to joke that you are like a marble statue, but I personally have always thought that you've got a strong heart underneath it all. How else can you muster that much passion for the cause? While it seemed previously that this heart could only know happiness when the revolution has succeeded, I am very glad to see that it may have changed slightly? Perhaps your heart is opening itself to a different kind of love, a different kind of passion?_

_Because if anyone deserves happiness after what happened at the barricade, it is you, Enjolras._

_You may think that a life deriving happiness from loving a woman is small compared to loving your '_Patria_', but I shall like to make the case to you that it is not._

_You may have disliked Marius' decision to pick _Mademoiselle_ Cosette over the cause. Or you may have even questioned my dedication when I have implied that I can no longer be bold as I used to be because I must think of Musichetta._

_I must admit that prior to the barricades, I had not thought much about dying or what it might do to Musichetta. However, I am now ever more grateful to have survived, because I cannot imagine missing out on this life that I am having with her. It is perhaps due to the knowledge of this near-miss, but I find myself more in love with her than I had ever thought possible. I intend to marry her someday, Enjolras. You are the first person to whom I have spoken (well, written) these words out loud, but I am never more convinced of anything else in my life._

_If I were given a choice to do it again — knowing what I know now — to select between a certain glorious death and a quiet life with Musichetta, then I am almost certain that I would pick her over the glory. Perhaps you may think it as a selfish and cowardly admission, and you may be right, so I am grateful that I never had to make the choice. I am grateful to you for making the choice for me that night by sending me away from the barricade._

_I suppose what I am trying very hard to say, Enjolras, is that you should not think of yourself as a lesser man if you choose to fall in love with a woman now over devoting your life fully to the revolutionary cause. __No one__ in fact would think of you as a lesser man, though I do not believe that anyone's approval has ever mattered to you as much as your own (you are your own worst critic, _mon ami_). It is as I said before: I think you deserve to be happy after the events of the barricade and that perhaps you may have in fact given all you can to the revolutionary cause in its current form. The case could always be made that there are other ways for you to contribute to the fight, one where you can be with the woman you love while still making a difference in the lives of the citizens of France._

_Anyway, I shall leave the serious talk on that note. I hope you have found my words somewhat useful._

_Now, Combeferre and Musichetta both mentioned that you had had a scare recently, when you thought that Éponine had contracted cholera? While I am ever glad that it turned out to be a case of the common cold after all, there is nothing stopping the actual menace from still striking down the two of you. As such, I will list for you a number of different precautionary strategies that I have found to be most effective in reducing the risk of contracting the disease…_"

As it turned out, Joly's one-page letter was double-sided and the entire back part was devoted to a detailed list of his alternative medical methods in relation to cholera. Each item was weirder than the one before, though one in particular gave Enjolras pause, as it mentioned doing certain things in the nude but preferably with another person, so Joly recommended that it be performed with one's lover…

Yes, on that note, Enjolras decided to put Joly's note back in its envelope with a bewildered shake of his head. His friends had certainly provided him with much to think about.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** There was a lot of 'letter text' in this chapter, so hopefully you didn't find it confusing. I've missed writing for Combeferre and Joly and wanted to bring them back to the story without actually having them physically present. I must say I quite enjoyed writing in the 'first person' for a bit there. Hope you enjoy the two different kinds of advice that Enjolras is getting from Combeferre and Joly.

At this point, I should confess that I am personally very much like Enjolras, wherein I'm very good at logic, but so terrible in romantic stuff, so I can tell you that very first part, where Enjolras does not know what to do next? Precisely how I feel sometimes.

I know this chapter is not too exciting after the last one, but I think it is important for Enjolras to finally get some love advice :-). The next parts should be uploaded shortly after I have finished editing them.

Please review/PM/follow/fave :-). And continue to promote it on tumblr/livejournal if you could (I have accounts there, but they are inactive). Thanks so much!


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer:** _Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras. Also contains Joly/Musichetta and Éponine/Musichetta friendship.

**Author's Note: **Am I a woman of my word or what? Took me 24 hours, but here is the second part of the chapter I was going to upload last night. Thank you so much for the all awesome comments regarding Combeferre and Joly's letters! I had so much fun writing them and trying to nail their characteristics. Hope you enjoy this one!

* * *

**Chapter 21**

Meanwhile, Éponine and Musichetta had gone to the kitchen, which was once again abandoned at that hour, for their chat. Alongside Enjolras' letters, Musichetta had taken with her to the convent a basket filled with a few dresses, some fabrics, and her sewing kit. It was not because she had to bring work with her. Instead, she had rather hoped that she could help Éponine mend some of her clothes to better show off… _her best features_. Since the younger girl had been rather too bashful to follow Musichetta's seduction tips, the least the _grisette_ could do was ensure that Éponine looked her best around Enjolras.

Especially since the marble man did not seem to be entirely immune to a woman's feminine features after all, if what Éponine was telling Musichetta now was any indication.

"So he just pulled you in and kissed you?" Musichetta asked with a wide smile. She was working on lowering the top cut of one of the dresses. Éponine actually had a rather nice décolletage that she would do well to accentuate, Musichetta thought, though perhaps not to such an extreme that the nuns would pose an objection.

"Yes! I knew he had it in him," Éponine looked up from her work with her eyes shining brightly. Musichetta had earlier shown her how to take in the mid-section of this particular dress and that was what she was attempting to do presently. The older girl had commented that Éponine had a lovely small waist which she should also highlight with a right-fitting dress.

"How was it?"

"Oh, it was very nice, Musichetta… _Passionate_… But why am I surprised? I do not think Enjolras can do anything without passion behind it."

Musichetta chuckled a little. "That is indeed what Joly always says."

"Does _Monsieur_ Joly know then?"

"Yes, but not from me. I can never betray your confidence, Éponine."

"I do not mind if you share with him."

"Ah, but these things should stay between us girls. No, my Joly was very clever. When he could not get it out of me, he went to Combeferre instead and tricked him into telling him."

"So Enjolras _has_ been confiding with _Monsieur_ Combeferre then."

"Yes, that was my first thought too. I wonder what he has been saying, don't you? So naturally, I asked Joly about it, but as you can guess, he now relishes holding this information from me."

"I suppose that _is_ fair, Musichetta."

"True… But do not fret, I know how to get things out of him. Believe me, Éponine, his resolve is not as strong as mine."

It was Éponine's turn to laugh, "I am sure you are right!"

Musichetta returned the subject to Enjolras, "So what has happened since then?"

"Well, nothing unfortunately," said Éponine, deflating slightly. "I have been rather hoping that he would make the next move, since I've now made my feelings clear and I _have_ initiated the first two times we kissed. Do you know, Musichetta, for all his talks of disliking passivity, Enjolras is not showing himself to be an active person in this matter."

"What I have found, Éponine, is that oftentimes the men who appear to be quite active in most aspects of their life can be very passive when it comes to matters of the heart. I will not be surprised if Enjolras is such a man."

"Shall I be bold and just kiss him again then?"

"I do not see why not, though you can always slowly tempt him until he cannot… help himself. It is rather exciting when a man takes charge, don't you find?"

"I suppose… I must admit that I have not got enough experience to fully comment on the matter."

"Well, trust me on that one. I think us improving your dresses is a good start already, though I would compel you once more to try out some of the… _tricks_ I wrote down for you."

"Yes, I know, Musichetta. I will… keep them in mind."

Éponine was blushing slightly, so Musichetta decided to take pity on her and moved the subject, "So besides the physical side of things, how do you _feel_ about him? Last time I was here you said that you were not in love with him… Has this changed?"

"I am certainly feeling more… _romantic_ towards him. I like how he treats me, how he always seems to consider my opinions and never looks down on me when we speak. I have never met anyone who appreciates my mind as much as him. I like how he shares many things with me that he does not seem to share with anyone else or shows a side of him that he does not show the world. I think he has changed me for the better, Musichetta. I feel that I now have… _possibilities_ for the future… I can no longer comprehend how I could have ever wanted to die at the barricade, for example. And of course I cannot deny that being looked upon with desire by a man as attractive as he is also doing wonders for my self-esteem, though, mind you, I do still feel sometimes that I do not quite… deserve him. He is a handsome nobleman after all, while I am... just me."

"Do not entertain such thoughts, Éponine. If there is one thing I have learned from hearing Joly and his friends talk, it's that times are changing to such an extent that those traditional distinctions between the classes are becoming a thing of the past, especially for Enjolras, out of anybody. Moreover, has it occurred to you that perhaps _you_ have changed _him_ as well? Maybe even more than he has you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mentioned once to you that Enjolras does not talk to women. From what Joly tells me, that is how he's always been. And yet you managed to make him feel comfortable in your presence, to speak to you as an equal, to get him to confide in you… That is no small feat, especially since you did it without realizing it or without intending to win him over… And he is only like this with you. He has changed himself for you. Or rather, he is slowly revealing his true self to you…. I will not be surprised if he has fallen in love with you before you him."

Éponine considered her friend's words for a while. Could it be true…? She had suspected it… but could not yet consider the significant implications that came with it.

Musichetta was looking at the girl with a smile of understanding, "Perhaps I should caution _you_ against breaking his marble heart, Éponine."

"I… do not quite know what to say to that, Musichetta… I am not sure if I have fallen in love with Enjolras… My only point of comparison is Marius and this certainly feels different to how it was with him. The feeling is not as strong. It is less… _consuming_."

"Éponine, since you brought up Marius…" Musichetta began gingerly. "You should know that he and Cosette have officially announced their engagement."

Éponine nodded, not at all feeling surprised. After all, Marius had told her himself that he planned to marry Cosette. "Well, I am not precisely overjoyed to hear the news, Musichetta… But you will be happy to know that it does not send me into a pit of despair either. I am simply… resigned to it."

It was Musichetta's turn to nod, "I am glad you are as fine as you could be, Éponine. I have heard it said that you never truly get over your first love, but it does not mean that you cannot move on to love another person in a more significant way… I would not be able to comment with complete accuracy as to how you feel for Enjolras, but perhaps it is different because you have matured since Marius? You know that I myself am a great believer in passionate love… But even in my relationship with Joly, I quite like that we have made the shift from an amorous love affair to a more stable relationship, wherein I am completely in love with him and _only him_."

Éponine gave Musichetta a big smile, "Oh, I am so happy for you! I apologize for being so self-concerned, Musichetta. I had neglected to ask about the state of _your_ relationship!"

"Do not worry yourself over it," Musichetta returned her smile. "I have actually been rather excited to hear about the development between you and Enjolras. if there are two people more deserving of love from each other, it is the two of you… But yes, things are going extremely well with Joly. You are possibly wondering how I shall fare, considering how Joly and I started with Bahorel in the mix…"

And Musichetta paused here, looking a bit sad. Éponine wondered if _Monsieur_ Bahorel was her first love after all. Perhaps both men were equally her first loves? Could a person really be in love with more than one person at once? And if it had happened before, could it happen again?

As if reading the girl's mind, Musichetta continued, "I never notice other men anymore though, moreover envision myself falling in love with any of them. I just simply like being around Joly. I do not even mind it if we stay in most nights. I like spending time in his house and eating dinner with him or talking to him about nothing in particular. I think our love has matured greatly since the barricade, ever since we both realized how close Joly came to not making it out alive…"

The two women contemplated the thought in silence. Éponine leaned over and gave Musichetta a friendly squeeze on her hand. Before she could say anything further on the subject though, she heard the sound of people entering the kitchen.

As it turned out, it was _Madame_ Morel followed by Gabrielle. The _Madame_ had a box full of bread on her arms. Éponine knew that the _Madame_'s daughter was married to the local baker and they often supplied the convent with their leftover stock.

The four women greeted each other politely. The _Madame _had been told by Éponine that she was expecting a visitor today, so she was not surprised to meet _Mademoiselle_ Musichetta, whom she thought was an extremely pretty girl with a cheery disposition. And quite a capable seamstress too if the work on her lap was any indication. Éponine introduced Gabrielle to Musichetta as one of the girls who was secretly meeting with herself and 'Émile'.

"Oh yes, Éponine has told me about this. How mischievous of you girls! Tell me, how do you find, _Monsieur_ Émile?" asked Musichetta in a friendly tone.

"He is very intelligent and patient. I think he shall make an amazing teacher if he ever decides to go into the profession, as _Madame_ Éponine suggests. He is helping us learn from books which the nuns are not teaching us. In fact…" She turned to _Madame_ Morel, "Is it there, _Madame_?"

To Éponine's surprise, _Madame_ Morel dug around in the bread box and produced a book from underneath all the loaves, "Yes, here it is, Gabrielle."

"_Merci_, Madame!" She turned to Éponine and said, "This is how I smuggle books into the convent, _Madame_ Éponine. Look, it is the Condorcet work you recommended!"

"That is quite clever, Gabrielle," Éponine said to the girl, but she then turned to _Madame_ Morel with an amused expression, "I am surprised, _Madame. _You are supplying these girls with forbidden books!"

"Ah, well, they are just books, aren't they? I do not see how they can cause harm. And it is no great feat of mine to simply pass on a piece of paper and some money for my son to take to the nearest bookshop." She then seemed to remember something, "As a matter of fact, Éponine, do you mind if I speak to you privately for a moment?"

"Certainly."

The two of them stepped to other side of the kitchen, leaving Gabrielle to converse with Musichetta.

"What is it, _Madame_?" asked Éponine.

"The girls have been telling me all about how your husband is helping them and I wonder… I do not know what your plans are after his leg is healed, but I do not think that the two of you would wish to live in the convent for much longer? He needs to be able to move around, surely. But if you are staying in the area — on account of his grandfather — I wonder if your Émile would be willing to teach my son and grandson to read and write? My son is twenty years old, but we never taught him and he has been wanting to learn. My grandson is six, so he should be able to start learning, but _his_ mother — my daughter — cannot do so herself. And even if she could, she is too busy assisting her husband at the bakery and taking care of her other two younger children; I often help out, as you know, in between the meals here. Of course, I understand if your husband would wish to find a proper employment at a school instead, and unfortunately we would not be able to compensate him much for his services, but I thought I would ask anyway."

Éponine was quite surprised but felt rather pleased by the _Madame_'s enquiry. Enjolras had not decided to become a teacher and he already had several requests from people to become his students. Well, he _did_ once say that many of his reforms kept coming down to education… And he _did_ want to make a difference in the lives of the common people…

"I shall raise it with him, _Madame_, and see what he says."

"Thank you, Éponine."

The two of them rejoined Gabrielle and Musichetta in the middle of a conversation regarding the dresses that the latter and Éponine were mending.

"I have great admiration for a seamstress, _Mademoiselle_," said Gabrielle to the _grisette_. "I too wish that I am being taught a real skill in this school. I cannot help but feel that I am only being prepared to be a wife or a nun."

"It is not so hard. I taught Éponine several things and look what she can do now. If you are interested, _Mademoiselle_, perhaps once you finish your schooling here, you can learn from some of the seamstresses I know."

"Oh I very much would like that, _Mademoiselle_, but I suspect my parents would just parade me to potential suitors once I am of age. They are very eager for me to marry well and consequently raise their own station. But that is my burden…"

Hearing this, Éponine began to understand why, despite her romantic nature, Gabrielle was quite fearful of marriage. Before she could comment on it though, the girl continued speaking to Musichetta, "Would you mind explaining to me how you are fixing these clothes, _Mademoiselle_? I am quite fascinated, though of course we are not allowed pretty dresses here at the convent."

So Musichetta detailed her methods to the schoolgirl. After she had finished, Gabrielle turned to Éponine and said, "You will look very lovely indeed, _Madame_, wearing all these dresses! if it is at all possible, I think _Monsieur_ Émile will fall even deeper in love with you."

"That is the plan, my girl," said Musichetta, smiling mischievously at Éponine.

* * *

As a matter of fact, Enjolras did notice a difference in the clothes that Éponine was wearing. Or perhaps it was just his imagination? Because he did not remember them being so _form-fitting_. They were certainly highlighting those features of hers that he had found so distracting lately.

Like her waist. It took all he had to resist grabbing her there and pulling her to him. It seems like a perfect place to place his hand… And her… _chest area_. He was finding it difficult to not be distracted by… _the whole thing_ when he was speaking to her. He was constantly scolding himself for acting like such a common man!

Above all though, he could not stop himself from looking at her lips. He felt that he should just do it... just go and kiss her again.

Spurred by Combeferre's advice, he had been meaning to speak to Éponine first and establish… what she wanted, but he just could not bring himself to raise the subject.

Even now, when it would be an ideal time to do so, as he could not quite see her, though he could feel her presence behind him.

Éponine was in the middle of cutting his hair. She just looked at him a few minutes ago and decided that he needed a haircut and that she would do it for him. He actually was not too bothered by his growing hair, but before he could so much as raise an objection, he found himself seated with a sheet draped over him and Éponine snipping away behind him.

Well, he did say that he would not refuse if she ever wanted to run her fingers through his hair again… The feeling was indeed _very_ _nice._

"You have done this before then, Éponine?"

"Yes, but never on a man. I have trimmed my own hair. But do not fret, Enjolras, I have seen my mother cut my father's hair dozens of times."

"Oh."

"You have nothing to worry about though, Enjolras. It would be very difficult for you to look anything less than handsome." Éponine smiled at her own bold statement. Musichetta had advised that if Éponine wanted Enjolras to make a move, she would have to be more daring in her prompting.

He cleared her throat and stammered his answer, "Th-thank you, Éponine." In spite of himself, he started to feel a bit hot.

"Are you going a bit red behind the neck here, Enjolras?" teased Éponine. For good measure, she ran her hand softly over the area, which was now exposed, as she had just cut the hair covering it. He shivered at her touch, so she said, "Don't mind me. I am just clearing away some stray hair."

He was relieved that she could not see his face, as he would certainly be looking quite red. He took several deep breaths to calm himself.

Unfortunately, this was not helped by the fact that Éponine had to lean forward to reach his hair and he could feel her… _softness_ being pressed against him.

_She was definitely doing this on purpose_, he thought.

"I think the back part is done," said Éponine.

She went around to stand before him and gave an appraising look. "Yes, I think that is fine. I wish we have a mirror, so you can see for yourself, but you can take my word that you are looking _very good_, Enjolras." She gave him a smile and moved closer, "Now we just need to shorten the front."

If Enjolras thought that Éponine was distracting when she was simply standing behind him, it was even worse when she was _right there_ in front him, invading his space with the sight of her and her scent…

She was leaning in to cut the hair above his right ear, so there really was _nowhere else_ for Enjolras to look besides the top curve of her chest and the line of her neck… He wanted to touch the skin there…

Thankfully, it did not take her long to do the other ear, but then she suddenly placed her face very closely in front of his, her hands grabbing hold of a few strands of hair on either side of his head.

"Let's see if they are the same length," she said, but her eyes were fixed on his own and not really on the hair.

He was mesmerized by her stare. She was so close… If he just grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in… He could kiss her again… The thought was starting to consume him… He was incapable of focusing on anything else.

He was reminded of that time so long ago in Joly's lounge, when he had to ask her help to scratch his face… He had been unable to concentrate on anything else then and he was feeling much the same way now… Thinking these thoughts about Éponine was almost like an overwhelming itch he could not scratch and, ironically, she was once again the only person who could help him relieve it…

He was aware that he was looking at her lips again and his fingers were fidgeting to take her hand…

But then she gave him this _grin_…

And he suddenly, finally understood what she was doing.

If he had been more astute about these things, he would have realized much sooner that she had been trying to seduce him all this time…

The thought gave him much gratification and made him feel emboldened.

_Well, two can play at this game…_

So instead of closing the gap between them, he gave her a placid smile and said, "All looking good then?"

Éponine could not hide her surprise at the calm look on his face. She was certain that he would kiss her right then. "Yes, I think so. You are done."

"Excellent, thank you, Éponine. My neck feels cooler already." He was rubbing the spot that Éponine had caressed earlier.

"I am glad," she said, but Enjolras did not fail to notice that she was sounding rather disappointed.

She busied herself with tidying up the area, lastly removing the sheet that was used to cover up Enjolras. He was patting himself to see if any stray hair was sticking to his clothes, but he was not seemingly paying attention to what she was doing.

Éponine was feeling quite frustrated. How was he doing this? Did he have a switch that he could turn on and off at a moment's notice?

"Well, if there is nothing else…" she began.

He suddenly reached out and grabbed her hand, "Éponine, wait."

"Yes?" Her heart was beating rapidly. Was this it? Was he finally going to do it then?

He looked up at her with a bright smile, "Could you please help me to stand up?"

Again, Éponine suppressed her disappointment. "Of course." She got the crutch and let him lean on her as he got it in place.

Once he was able to stand on his own, he gave her a _grin_ — much like the one she gave him before — and said thanks.

She moved back and asked him distractedly, "What do you need to do anyway?"

"This."

And with one swift move, he tugged her towards him, craning his head down to capture her lips with his own.

Éponine felt too stunned to respond immediately.

_Enjolras_…

_Was_….

_Kissing… _

_Her_.

He had caught her by surprise, but he actually did it.

She smiled against his lips and started to kiss him back, arms going around his neck and fingers tangling in the hair which she just shortened.

Enjolras found that his hand did indeed fit perfectly on her waist. The kiss was passionate immediately. It must have been all the pent-up tension he had been feeling since last time. Why had he not done this sooner? His mind was filled with one word only… _Her name_.

He moved his lips assuredly against hers, feeling quite amazed that he seemed to know how to do this by instinct. He glided his hand across the small of her back and pulled her even closer. He wished his other hand did not have to hold on to the crutch, but he had wanted to do this properly, to kiss her while standing, when he could bend down his head from his full height…

Her hand was on the side of his face, tracing his jawline. He wanted to repay the favor, but was distracted when he felt her lips parting and her tongue sneaking into his mouth.

He was so startled that he broke the kiss.

Éponine was looking up at him with a trace of mischief in her eyes, "Sorry, did I surprise you?"

She did, but she also made him feel… _very good_. He noticed how swollen and red her lips looked, which thrilled him, because that was his doing…

Before she could say anything further, he pulled her in by the back of her neck and kissed her some more. This time, he did not hesitate before opening his mouth and letting her tongue touch his.

_This_, he thought… _This_ would be his undoing…

Éponine was correct when she said that he owed it to himself to explore this aspect of the human experience…

And now that he had, he did not think that he could ever give it up so easily… Or more precisely, to give _her _up so easily…

But _that_ was a thought for later. At the moment, he could only think about the feel of this girl in his arms… This girl who was making him shudder just by what she was doing with her lips and her touch and the small noises that she was producing…

Just like how it was that night in the garden, he felt his knees buckling… And he did not think that it was because he was physically tired from standing. _This_ was also Éponine…

Thankfully, the chair was right behind him, so he stumbled back to sit on it, Éponine still in his embrace.

She let out a little laugh, but kept her hands on his shoulders. She moved to stand between his legs and bent down her head to kiss him again, scraping his bottom lip slightly with her teeth. He did not object.

"What took you so long, Enjolras?" she asked between small kisses.

"I do not know, Éponine. I could not figure out what you wanted me to do." His arms were still wrapped around her and his hands were exploring her back. He still kept his touch _decent _though… to Éponine's frustration. But she supposed he might need to take small steps with this…

"I thought I was being quite obvious."

"Next time, just tell me."

"Next time, just do it."

"All right."

"That was quite wicked, tricking me like that."

"It serves you right, trying to make me squirm."

"Oh good, you figured it out then. I was beginning to feel that I'd have to start things off again."

"Why didn't you? I… like it when you do."

"Well, I like it when _you_ do, Enjolras."

"But in this you are more experienced than I am." He said it so plainly, without reservation, and he was looking up at her with an unguarded expression. It made him look younger than she was, which in this matter, she supposed he rather was…

"Shall I be your teacher then? From what I can tell, you are a very good student already."

"I am glad."

"Then you shall be my instructor in the books and I shall be yours in _this_… If the lessons happened to overlap sometimes, then well…" But she could not finish her line of thought, as Enjolras was kissing her again and was giving her bottom lip small nips with his teeth.

_He really is a good student,_ thought Éponine, as she let herself get lost in what would definitely be her new favorite activity with Enjolras.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Hee hee, yes, more KISSING! A bit surprising or no? I don't know about you, but sometimes I'd lose interest in a story after my ship has kissed. Well, let's hope that I can sustain your (and my) interest without making É/E boring or using contrived reasons to keep them apart.

Most of you knew exactly how this chapter would start, yay! Yes, of course, I had to write the girl chat between Éponine and Musichetta :-). I quite enjoyed writing about their friendship. Again, apologies to the Musichetta/Bousset shippers, as I mentioned Musichetta/Bahorel again, but, well, it's all Joly/Musichetta now anyway.

Anyway, what do you think? I love hearing your feedback, as they inspire and motivate me to continue, so as always, please review/PM/follow/fave :-). _Merci à tous_!


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer:** _Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me. I am not a French history or literary scholar, but I tried my best in this chapter.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much for all the great reviews and other responses! I love them all: From my loyal readers who review every chapter (I know who you are, you make me smile!), to guest reviewers to whom I can't reply, to those of you who leave really long reviews that make me grin like a fool, to those of you who say that you don't ever review fanfics but made the exception for my fic, to those of you who don't even ship E/É but again made the exception, and to all others who sent me PMs, became new followers, or put this fic or myself on your fave list. THANK YOU! You guys are my motivation.

Also, I'd like to say a SPECIAL THANKS to **pennylanes**, who created a lovely cover art for this fic! If you haven't seen it, check it out. She also promoted this fic with a GORGEOUS art on her tumblr as a response to E/É haters (Ha! Best response, I think), so again please go and visit the post if you haven't (replace space with dots and slashes - place slash after com and post):

epjolras tumblr com post 45177364992

Anyway, without further ado, hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 22**

Enjolras recalled how he once said that men and women would be less governed by their attraction to each other the longer they conditioned themselves to each other's presence.

How wrong he was… How little did he know…

Éponine seemed to have always known though. He recalled that discussion they had while studying Rousseau, whereby she said — almost prophetically, it seemed now — that men and women would always be ruled by their 'stirring' for one another and that the time would come yet when he would experience this for himself…

Well, the time had surely come, had it not, because if his situation with Éponine was any indication, he was certainly not feeling his desire towards her waning…

If anything, the longer he spent kissing her, the more often he found himself in her embrace, the more he craved for it… for all of it… for all of _her_.

He still could not believe that he had been transformed into this man who was ruled by his instincts, but he felt extremely powerless to stop it.

He had never known himself to be able to go into anything without full passion behind it, so he supposed he should not have been surprised that, in this matter, he was much the same.

However, up to this point, he had not let themselves be… _overtaken by their passion_. He kept Combeferre's words in the back of his mind always. He fully intended to speak to Éponine first, to find out what her expectations for the two of them were… _physically_.

Still, he supposed he could not complain about the fact that he could now kiss her whenever he wished to do so…

Such as right at the moment, when she was reading out loud from one of his books and he found himself watching how her lips moved…

"You are not listening to me, are you, Enjolras?"

"No. Come here," he said, reaching for her hand.

She placed the book down and had her arms around his neck immediately.

"Your concentration is becoming quite bad lately, do you realize?" Éponine said, in between kisses. She could not quite sit on his lap, due to the cast on his right leg, but he had pulled her down all the same, so that she was resting on his left thigh.

"Yes, it is your fault, Éponine. You are highly distracting."

"You are not so bad yourself."

She decided to try something new, as her current position was at the perfect angle to do so. See if Enjolras would learn _this_ quickly…

She broke contact with his lips to trail small kisses on the side of his mouth, jaw, and neck. She started with a featherlight kiss there, but then added a bit more pressure, darting her tongue out to touch the soft skin there.

"Éponine…"

"I wonder if you will like this," she breathed into his skin, which really smelled _so good_, like a mixture of soap and cotton and _him_.

He did not say anything further, but she felt his grip on her hip tightening. She suppressed a giggle and continued with what she was doing, biting into the skin there once in a while.

"I hope that does not leave a mark," she said lightly a moment later, as she caressed the area with her fingers.

"What?" Enjolras shook off the dazed look on his face and turned to her with his eyes wide. He felt the skin there and found it rather damp still, but he could not feel a mark.

"Do not fret. I do not think it will…" But then she bit her bottom lip and her eyes turned playful, "Well, at least not _yet_. There is some… _égalité_ in it, don't you think? Your lessons leave me with ink all over my hand. Mine leaves you with _this_…"

That seemed to do it for him, she using _his_ term when they were wrapped up like this… It was all he could do to keep himself together. He pulled her in with almost a growl, their mouths connecting at a fervent pace, his hands greedily exploring the soft skin of her cheeks, her neck, past the slopes of her shoulders, and down the slender curve of her body… She really was intoxicating for him…

When they finally came up for air, she stood up from her position, mostly because she did not want his leg to hurt, but he gave an involuntary noise of protest.

"I do wish to study at some point, Enjolras," she said with a chuckle. She grabbed the book from the desk but went back to stand in the space between his legs, her right side against the front his body and right arm placed around his shoulders, while his left was wrapped quite low around her hip. Because he was looking at her expectantly, she bent her head down and gave him a quick kiss. "I suspect this will feel odd for me once you can fully stand again. I shall keep expecting to be taller than you. Now listen…"

She held the book in her left hand and started reading out loud from it again, "_Here, in a word, is the history of the Romans. By means of their… _'_maxims_'?"

"It means a general truth or a principle or a general rule of conduct," he replied distractedly, because in their current position, the expanse of her neck was just _right there_ in front of him…

She nodded and continued reading. She was no longer feeling quite so self-conscious about her pronunciation. In fact, she had rather liked showing off how his lessons had improved her,_ "By means of their maxims they conquered all peoples… but when they had succeeded in doing so, their republic could not endure. It was necessary to change the government, and contrary… maxims employed by the new government made their greatness collapse… It is not chance that rules the world…_"

Éponine recognized that she had come to an interesting part of the passage, but lost her words then, because Enjolras was _insisting_ on showing off _his_ lessons to _her. _He was nuzzling her on the side of her neck, softly at first, but then went on to suck and bite a little bit on the skin there, like how she'd shown him.

She gave a small delighted laugh, "You are a quick study, Enjolras."

"So I have been told. Continue your reading. Let us see if your concentration is better than mine."

She made a valiant effort of it, she really did… She almost got through the next two long sentences, but he was so distracting — and a little bit daring too, pushing aside her hair so he could trail kisses to her shoulder and collarbone — that she finally gave up. Enjolras intended to discuss the book with the schoolgirls later anyway. She pulled him by the front of his shirt and kissed him most thoroughly, simply getting lost in the feel of his lips, his taste, his scent…

When they finally broke apart, Éponine caressed his cheek and said, "I think I shall give you a shave later on. I rather like feeling the bristles on your skin, but if you insist on kissing me so much, I cannot be seen looking flush all the time."

It was Enjolras' turn to chuckle. She did look rather red around the mouth and chin. "I suppose that is fair, though I normally shave in the morning anyway."

"But I rather like giving you a shave. You already know how _gentle_ I am with it. I promise I will make it _worth your while_ if you let me."

His eyes were clouding with desire and he looked like he wanted to devour her again, "Éponine, you have to stop saying these things to me."

She laughed as a response and placed both hands on his chest, "Steady there. How is my neck? Did you leave a mark?" She swept her hair aside aside so he could have a look.

He was both ashamed and delighted to see that there was indeed a small mark there. He touched it with his thumb. She did not wince even though it looked like a bruise.

"Sorry, Éponine. There _is_ a mark. But your hair will cover it. And, well… you started it," he said the last part with a much amused tone.

"Yes, true… But don't you go start using this trick all the time. I will not walk around outside looking like you have assaulted my neck."

"You shall need to teach me other things then," he replied rather boldly with fire behind his eyes.

The way he was looking at her was enough to heat her blood and she was quite tempted to start showing him those new things now… But she remembered that they had to compose themselves for the schoolgirls' visit.

They would be here any moment now and it just would not do for the girls to find them quite… _disheveled_.

So she told him _later_ and instead helped him straighten out his shirt collar, ensuring that it covered the mark that she'd made.

When the girls finally arrived at their door, the 'couple' was looking as they always were, perfectly calm and collected. Enjolras had put on his impressively marble face, while Éponine her doting wife persona.

"_Ça va, Monsieur _Émile?" said Justine. She _always_ greeted Enjolras first. Éponine would not say that the girl ignored her or was hostile towards her, but her presence just did not register to Justine as much as Enjolras' did. In Justine's world, Enjolras was the sun and she was the little planet that orbited around it… which was rather amusing, really, given that one of his monikers was Apollo, the Greek God of the sun.

Éponine had had to chuckle at her own mental joke, particularly because she thought it was rather clever of her. She had Enjolras to thank though for her little knowledge of Greek Mythology and Astronomy.

Gabrielle noticed her smiling to herself and asked what was so amusing. Éponine hesitated on whether or not to tell her, but then thought that it was entirely plausible for 'Lieutenant Émile' to be called 'Apollo' as well, given his apparent good looks…

"Oh that is quite funny, _Madame_, and rather accurate too, considering that is how Justine behaves with all her obsessions."

"She has had quite a few then?"

"Yes, not all of them for a _real_ man, mind you, as she encounters them very rarely, having lived in this convent for much of her life."

"What about her family? Does she not meet young men through them, when she visits them?"

"Oh, there's her father and she has two brothers, but they have all rather abandoned her here ever since she was a child… Her mother died giving birth to her and she thinks that perhaps they blamed her. She used to go home to her family estate during the holidays, but they would be so busy with their own activities and would leave her so lonesome, that she'd preferred to stay here in recent years, especially since I would rather keep her company as well, than see my own family. I think this is why she fixates so much. Most of the time it is just on fictional men in her stories, but then, well, _Monsieur_ Émile came along… And he is so clever and handsome and kind… I am not surprised to see him quickly becoming the center of her universe." The girl then looked at Éponine with an expression of horror, "Forgive me, _Madame_. My mouth has run away with me again. How insensitive of me. I hope it does not make you feel too uncomfortable hearing all this. I assure you that Justine does not intend to actually… _steal_ him from you."

There was once a time when Éponine was very selfish with her possessions. She still remembered how she would not share her doll with Cosette. It was her last memory of 'the lark' as a child, as Cosette was rescued by _Monsieur_ Valjean shortly after. But having been through what she had — from her descent to poverty and her desperation to die at the barricade, to her unlikely salvation in the hands of _Messieurs_ Combeferre and Joly, and then later by Musichetta, with her friendship, and Enjolras, with his… _everything_ — Éponine actually found that she could not mind the thought of Enjolras being loved and admired by others… It was not as if he _belonged_ to her after all…

"No, I am not bothered," she said genuinely to Gabrielle. "I think I may even understand what Justine is feeling… I too was quite fixated on _Monsieur_ Marcellus, if you remember, before I met Émile… I think it is very tough when you feel… quite abandoned by everyone else, so invisible to the people who were supposed to love you, that you cling to that little ray of hope in your life, that one thing or one person that makes you happy… If Émile is such a person for her at the moment, then I cannot begrudge Justine the feeling."

"That is… very generous, _Madame_."

"No, I simply understand how she feels… " She gave the girl a kind smile, "How about yourself, Gabrielle? I have been meaning to ask, though hopefully you do not find me prying… Why do you not seem to like your family?"

Gabrielle's face darkened a little, "We are not what you would call a traditional upper class family. My parents were only granted their nobility by Emperor Napoleon, so they are still quite new at being part of the _beau monde_. But what they lack in love for each other they make up in their shared ambition to climb the social ladder. They are quite unscrupulous and unashamed in their quest too. I could tell you the horrible things they did to sabotage their peers for the sake of their own advancement, but I do not wish to horrify you, _Madame_…"

Éponine secretly thought that she was unlikely to be horrified, as whatever Gabrielle's parents did would surely pale in comparison to what her own parents had done. However, she kept her mouth shut and let the girl share her story.

"They pretty much _sold_ my eldest sister to a cruel man thirty years her senior because he is a _Marquis_ of somewhere important. And they placed me in this school in the hopes that I would befriend plenty of aristocratic young ladies and establish links to their world, perhaps even marrying a brother or a cousin of one of my richer classmates. I think they also had rather hoped that my romantic nature would be quashed by the nuns and their strict rules, that if given a choice between a life as a simple novice or as a compliant wife to a husband of my parents' choosing, I would pick the latter…"

Éponine looked at the girl with sympathy, "I had not realized that being part of the upper class comes with that kind of burden, Gabrielle… In a way, perhaps I am rather glad that I did not come from that world." Though in the back of her mind, a small voice was telling her that _Enjolras_ was from that world, one that would not approve of him getting involved with the likes of her…

"I shall not be ungrateful and pretend that my troubles can compare to those poor people starving in the streets, _Madame_, but it _is_ a rather different kind of burden, having your whole life planned out for you with little freedom to choose or to escape," said Gabrielle in a forlorn voice.

"You never know, Gabrielle… Perhaps the man that you parents wish for you to marry may turn out to be a kind person after all and you may in fact fall in love with him all the same."

"Yes, that is what I hope for more than anything."

Meanwhile, Justine was showing off what she had brought to Enjolras, "Look, _Monsieur_. I had taken a notebook and a pen with me so that I can write down everything you say."

"That is very well, _Mademoiselle_, but I had rather hoped that there could be a discussion between us, where you do not simply take everything I say, but also let me know of your opinions? I think we can all learn better that way."

"Oh. Of course, _Monsieur_, though I am not quite sure what you can learn from me. You are so intelligent already," said Justine again with bright eyes.

"I only appear to be so, _Mademoiselle_, because I continually try to learn from others, be it an individual I meet or one whose thoughts I read through a book or a pamphlet. Each person has a unique view on the world and it is only by sharing these experiences with each other can we enrich our minds and grow together. Of course you must also be willing to truly _listen_ to what another person has to say and decide for yourself whether or not their words have any value for you."

Justine was quiet for a while, trying to take in what _Monsieur_ Émile was saying. It was rather difficult to concentrate, as she was being continually dazzled by his almost ethereal good looks. However, one thing did get through to her straight away, "You wish to learn even from me, _Monsieur_? A mere girl?"

"Of course. I do not doubt that women are capable of free thinking too." He glanced over at Éponine, who smiled at him over the top of _Mademoiselle_ Gabrielle's head, "As a matter of fact… I am continually learning from my wife." It gave him an odd thrill imparting this knowledge to _Mademoiselle_ Justine, as the latter had no idea what _kind_ of learning he had been getting from Éponine lately…

"That is certainly… _different_ to what I have been taught here, _Monsieur_. According to the nuns, to be a good woman in the eye of God, either as a wife or a novice to the Church, which are our only options, then we must be submissive and obedient. We must guard our thoughts and quietly listen and follow the wills of our husband or the prioress. And we must also submit unconditionally to God through the Church, of course."

The _Mademoiselle_ had said all of this in an almost perfunctory manner, as if it was something that had been repeatedly dictated to her, word-for-word, until she could recite it out loud, like how she just did, without actually realizing what it actually meant. Enjolras wondered if he could break the mold. The revolutionary leader in him rejoiced at the possibility.

"Well, let us see if I can convince you otherwise, _Mademoiselle_."

Enjolras beckoned Éponine and _Mademoiselle_ Gabrielle to join them. He told the girls that he had been getting Éponine to read Montesquieu. As the girls gave blank looks at the mention of the name, he provided them with a short description of who the man was. Enjolras asked if the _Mademoiselles_ would not mind listening to Éponine read some passages out loud. He would very much like to hear what they thought.

As both girls had not raised any objections, Éponine fetched the book and returned to the part where she left off, trying not to replay in her mind what had happened the first time she tried to go through this passage earlier…

She read slowly, so she could concentrate on the meaning of each word, on what the _Baron_ de Montesquieu was trying to say, "_Here, in a word, is the history of the Romans. By means of their maxims they conquered all peoples… But when they had succeeded in doing so, their republic could not endure. It was necessary to change the government, and contrary maxims employed by the new government made their greatness collapse… It is not chance that rules the world… Ask the Romans, who had a continuous sequence of successes when they were guided by a certain plan, and an uninterrupted sequence of reverses when they followed another… There are general causes, moral and physical, which act in every monarchy, elevating it, maintaining it, or hurling it to the ground… All accidents are controlled by these causes. And if the chance of one battle — that is, a particular cause — has brought a state to ruin, some general cause made it necessary for that state to perish from a single battle… In a word, the main trend draws with it all particular accidents._"

Enjolras stopped her there and looked at all three women. Judging by the expressions on their faces, he decided to give them a brief summary of the context of the passage, namely the rise and fall of the Roman Empire.

"The reason I find this work so interesting is because I think we are also living at an age of transition, or more precisely, at an age of decline for the French Monarchy and a rise for the French Republic. You have heard me mention the insurrection that happened recently. Though it had failed, and though its individual instigators had been… killed or captured or… quashed in other ways, I believe that the event is still part of a larger movement, whereby citizens of this country — and even elsewhere — are morally evolving to a point where one day they shall rise and decide that they can no longer tolerate the inequalities inherent in a royalist system… _This_ is how I interpret that particular Montesquieu work. I believe he suggested that historical events are not the results of chance or even individual actors, but rather of rational causes, driven by an underlying movement that responds to the progress of time and the moral evolution of all of us as human beings. Simply put, we shall have a Republic soon because there is a trend towards it, based on how we as a society are evolving to accept it as morally correct."

Éponine had to smile at Enjolras' speech. Despite his time away from crowds of captive audience, he had not lost his talent for brilliant oratory. And if she understood his meaning correctly, she was also rather relieved to hear that he had found a line of thought that would allow him to move past the failure of the barricades.

The girls, though, who were quite unaccustomed to hearing talks of politics and had never encountered a man who directed such inspiring rhetoric at them, were stunned silent.

Enjolras, noticing this, decided to take a step back and start the girls off with a simpler concept, "Please do not be intimidated by my words, _Mademoiselles_. Leaving aside the current politics of this country, this passage also contains an idea on which I would very much like to hear your opinions. Montesquieu said simply that, '_It is not chance that rules the world_'. What do you think of it?"

As the girls still seemed unsure of what to say, Éponine jumped in, "When he mentions 'chance', what is that, really? Is he speaking of luck? As in good fortune and bad fortune? Is he saying that it does not exist?"

"I think 'chance' here refers to a random series of occurrences that seem to have no explanation, but I do not believe that he is summarily dismissing fortune as a concept. Rather, in explaining significant historical changes, he is arguing that these could always be attributed to _rational_ causes, as opposed to what appears to be the sheer dumb luck of individuals… or even _divine interference_."

Justine finally picked up on what he was saying and was so surprised by it that she did not restrain her words, "Is he saying that God has nothing to do with historical events, _Monsieur_? Is that not blasphemy?"

"I think he is saying that _in spite_ of apparent acts of divine interference, historical changes could be explained rationally by the general trends of the time and by the reason and morality of the people living in it. For example, in the case of the Roman Empire, even if Caesar and Pompey had been struck dead by God before they wrested power for themselves — had they been somehow killed by an errant arrow in battle or had their ship been sunk by a vicious storm somewhere — other men would have risen up in their place. The times then were rife for ambitious men to seize power."

Gabrielle had started to understand as well, "It feels quite uncomfortable to say, _Monsieur_, but is he perhaps suggesting that we should try to look for rational explanations to major events, rather than attribute everything to acts of God?"

Justine turned to her friend with a mixture of fright and excitement in her expression, "If the nuns could hear us now, Gabrielle, we shall truly be in trouble."

Enjolras looked at the two girls with a soft smile, "Yes, I think that is the essence of Montesquieu's argument… And what I would try to encourage for everyone as well."

Éponine piped in then, "But surely, not _everything_ can be explained rationally, Émile? There are bound to be events in our lives that are so… mystifying that they could only come from God." She tried to convey with her eyes the subtext of what she was saying: _How about how we came to be saved from the barricade, Enjolras? That was surely some kind of divine intervention, was it not?_

Enjolras seemed to understand her meaning, "Yes, I am not completely dismissing the presence of God or any other higher powers in our lives, Éponine. I am simply arguing for… caution to be used before accrediting God for most things that can be explained rationally. And building on that line of thought, I would also argue against invoking God for the _irrational_ things that you do for the sake of _tradition_. This is the only way we can move forward from… religious superstitions."

The girls glanced at each other again. Like Justine, Gabrielle also felt the same mixture of terror and exhilaration. _Monsieur_ Émile was certainly quite radical in his thoughts. But there was something… _magnetic _and yet so straightforward in his delivery that neither girls could fail to see the truth and logic behind his words.

Justine, who had always been bolder of the two in speech, spoke up first, but almost in a whisper, "Are you referring to the nuns here, _Monsieur_? Of their practices of wearing the veil and making reparations for all hours of the day?"

"Yes," he replied truthfully. He considered his next words very carefully. He needed to be straightforward, but not to such an extent that he would scandalize the _Mademoiselles_, "I do consider the practices they follow here to be part of an outdated dogma which has little basis in common sense. I think the world has progressed to such an extent that I do not think the women here needed to be fully sequestered from men, for example. But what do _you_ think, _Mademoiselles_? I do notice that the pupils are not placed under as severe rules as the nuns, but surely you have an opinion on how you are schooled?"

It was Justine who replied again, "Well, to be completely honest, _Monsieur_, I have not given much thought to the nuns' practices. I mean, obviously I realize that they are extremely strict with themselves and with us, to a lesser extent, you are correct, _Monsieur_, but are not all nuns and all convent schools this way?"

Enjolras nodded, not feeling surprised that the _Mademoiselle_ had simply accepted it, having been conditioned to this situation for much of her life. But before he could respond, _Mademoiselle_ Gabrielle said to her friend, "No, I know of other orders of nuns which are less strict, Justine."

Enjolras added, "I certainly do not wish for you to start rebelling against the nuns here, _Mademoiselles_, but I would simply implore you to start analyzing in a rational manner whenever you are told by your teachers that things are a certain way because that is what God has commanded or that is how things have always been. I would implore you, in short, to use the capacity to think for yourselves, _Mademoiselles_."

Unfortunately, their hour was up at that point, so the girls had to leave. They departed with dazed looks on their faces, their minds filled with the _Monsieur_'s words. He had not exactly shattered the romantic images that they had of him, but mixed in with them now was this new… notion of him as a source of alternate ways of thinking, ones that were rather… _exciting_.

Once alone in their room again, Éponine turned to Enjolras with a wide smile, "Did you mean it? That you do not wish them to start rebelling against the nuns?"

"I only encourage them to start thinking independently, Éponine. I would not direct them to act one way or another, but only to follow where their common sense takes them."

"Yes, but if their common sense leads to rebellion…"

"Then that is where they shall end up. And where _we_ will find ourselves."

Éponine laughed a little at that, "It seems that you cannot resist instilling revolutions wherever you are, Enjolras!"

"It seems to be in my nature, isn't it?" he relented with an amused smile.

"You know, it is rather inspiring to see you in your element," she said slowly, taking up the seat next to him. "And I am glad to hear you say what you said about the June rebellion."

"I truly believe that, Éponine. I shall have to make peace with what happened at the barricade… I still regret all the deaths and I will never forget those who lost their lives, but… I do genuinely believe that there is an inevitable march towards Republicanism. I do not know how long it will take, whether or not it will be achieved in our lifetime, but I do not doubt that France will become a Republic someday."

He suddenly recalled what he had shouted at the barricade. It was possibly the last words his friends ever heard, '_Let others rise to take our place until the Earth is free!_'_'_'

Yes, he still thought that that was true. Even if they — or he himself — could not live to see it, he had faith that the citizens of France, that humanity itself will rise one day to claim liberty for themselves.

"I too believe in it as well, Enjolras. You have made a convert out of me."

"Have I?"

"Yes."

"I am happy to hear it."

She gave him a soft smile and took his hand. It was quite nice, being able to simply hold hands while they sat together reading Montesquieu. They remained there, enjoying each other's company until it was time for Éponine to leave for her afternoon errands. Enjolras let her go with a quick kiss. There would be time for more later.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Okay, this chapter's a little different, where you got the make-out sessions at the start (HA!) and the real heavy intellectual stuff at the end, but I'd like to show this reciprocal student-teacher relationship that E/É have got going on. One of my reviewers **talinxship** mentioned that she found it really hot. Ha! I too find it rather hot (though I don't normally like student/teacher relationships) and hope you liked what I wrote here ;-).

The book that they were studying is Montesquieu's _Considerations on the Causes of the Greatness of the Romans and their Decline_. I actually didn't know much about it prior to the chapter, but something I read inspired me to use it, both in terms of shaping Enjolras' perspective of the barricade and in starting those discussions with the girls. It may not be the most accurate reading of Montesquieu, but I hope I have been quite respectful of the work.

Anyway, tell me what you think! As always, feedback gives me the most motivation to write, so as always, please review or PM. But of course I also appreciate any new follows/faves I get. 'Til next time!


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer:** _Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes:** Wow, I got a BUNCH of new follows/faves and some wonderful reviews about the content of the previous chapter (both intellectual AND make-out scenes, haha). Thank you so much! Hope you enjoy this one! Originally this was meant to go at the end of the previous chapter. This chapter is dedicated to the song "This" by Ed Sheeran and to George Blagden who did a cover of it and was the reason I know of it in the first place.

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**Chapter 23**

It came as no surprise, but Enjolras found that his sleeping situation with Éponine was becoming more… _precarious_ lately. He did not hesitate kissing her most of the time anymore, but while in bed he had so far drawn the line, as he knew how easy it would be for him to lose control…

Yet, here he was, right at this moment, with Éponine lying next to him and of course all he could think about was pulling her to him.

She was resting on her side facing him and he was on his back, always on his back, as the damned cast on his leg prevented him from mirroring her pose.

They were simply talking, but Éponine was smiling at him in that way of hers and her fingers were splayed on his arm, tapping softly, gliding lazily across his skin, so of course he was distracted.

Finally unable to remain unresponsive, he let his right hand reach over his body and took hold of her left. He followed the grooves of her knuckle with his thumb. He could never have enough of her skin… How did she keep it so soft? Éponine had stopped talking, so there was a lull in the conversation. He looked up at her, "Do you wish to sleep yet?"

"No… I rather like just being here, observing your features."

He discernibly blushed and then asked almost bashfully, "Do you want to… maybe… lie here on my chest for a while?"

She smiled up at him, "Do you want me to?"

"Yes."

So she did. She moved herself to the same position in which she had woken up after falling ill, with her head on his chest and the front of her body pressed up against his left side. His left arm quickly wrapped around her, caressing her back lightly, and his right hand still held her left one, his fingers running circles over the back of her hand. She could hear the steady beating of his heart underneath her head and his nice scent filled up her nostrils. It was rather comforting, Éponine thought. She could really stay like this all night.

They had certainly by now spent some… _passionate_ time together, but Éponine found that she also liked these quiet moments between them, when it was just comfortable and rather… _romantic_.

She felt Enjolras' lips on her hair and lifted up her head to look at him surprise, "Did you just kiss me on the head? Who would have guessed that the marble lover of liberty could be so… tender?"

He shrugged in response, "You bring it out of me, Éponine."

And _this_ really was the ironic thing about when they were in bed together, Enjolras thought. On the one hand, he certainly made a conscious effort to be more _physically_ restrained towards her, but on the other, he found himself being more _emotionally_ open with her when they were lying like this… It had been happening ever since they first chatted in bed. Yes, he still recalled how he once said that sleeping was nothing more than resting upon a bed, but well… It seemed that he had perhaps underestimated what sleeping _with_ someone would do to one's emotional defenses… It was perhaps what made him admit to what he said next, "Do you know I did the same thing that night you fell ill?"

"Did you now?" She turned a little bit in her position, so that she could rest her chin on his chest, looking up at him.

"It felt like the right thing to do." He took his right thumb to her cheek and caressed the soft skin there, "And I did _this_ after you had fallen asleep in the middle of our late night talk."

"It seems that you quite like to touch me when I am sleeping."

Enjolras started to redden, "Nothing indecent though, I assure you—"

Éponine giggled a little and cut him off with a soft kiss, "I know. I am just teasing you."

He should not have let her kiss him… Or even asked her to lie like this in the first place… He felt such _longing_ for her. He wanted more of it. He wondered if he could just let himself give in just a bit more…

He placed his palm on her cheek and gently pulled her in. He pressed his lips against hers intending for it to be a quick contact, but of course it did not stay that way… It soon turned into a long, leisurely kiss, where they moved their lips slowly against each other, both indulging in the feeling…

Enjolras still had his wits about him and told himself that this was all right… that this was allowed… that he could still control himself if things stayed like this… His instincts, though, were _screaming_ at him to take it further.

Éponine was apparently experiencing the same urges and felt bolder about it. She deepened the kiss, pulling herself up on the bed slightly, so that she was rather leaning down on him, her body almost completely on top of his. She wanted to swing her leg over so that she could straddle him, but before she could do so, he stopped her with his palms on her shoulders.

"Éponine, wait." He was breathing quite heavily and his face was flush. Éponine had never found him more appealing.

"Do you not want this, Enjolras?" she asked, quite breathless herself.

His mind was fogging up with desire, especially when she was looking down on him like that, with her hair framing her face and his— _her_ sleepshirt now hanging loosely about her body, enough so that he could see the top curve of her chest…

But he forced himself to think about what Combeferre had said. He calmed down slightly. He moved his hands from her shoulders to cup her cheeks, forcing her to look at him, "Éponine, how about if we… talk for a little bit?"

She let out a little sigh of frustration, "All right." She did not move away though. She lay back down with her head on his chest, her hands folded underneath her chin, looking up at him expectantly.

"Éponine…" he said hesitantly. "I have been meaning to talk to you… I am not quite sure how to say this, so perhaps I shall just speak plainly… Éponine, what are your… expectations in terms of us… uh, _physically_?"

Éponine had to giggle a little at his phrasing. She could not believe that she was hearing this from him, "Is it not _obvious_ what I want, Enjolras?"

"Yes, well, I do not want to presume… I am trying to be… _respectful_ of your wishes."

Éponine, who was unaccustomed to men who thought about what _she_ wanted in this matter, as opposed to forcing their _needs_ upon her, felt a rush of affection for him, "You really are such a decent, _proper _man, Enjolras… Well, for me, truthfully, it is not such a big deal. As you may have gathered, I have lain with men before, so it is not as if I have any virtue left to preserve… And it _is_ a natural desire that we feel."

"Is that simply what this would be to you? A way to satisfy a desire?" he asked quietly. He did not quite know why it bothered him.

"No, not precisely," she replied honestly, though not quite knowing how she would convey this to him. After thinking it for a while, she raised herself to a sitting position, as she felt that she needed to be serious to say what she'd say next, "If I were to speak plainly, Enjolras… Of course I _desire_ you…"

His stomach did a little flip at that, but he forced himself to listen to what she was saying.

"But it is more than that…" She felt herself blushing and avoided his eyes, "I also feel very… _romantic_ towards you… And _this_ is one more way I shall be able to be… _close_ to you." Her voice wavered as she asked the next question, "How do you— How do you… feel towards me?"

Enjolras reached his hand out to grab her chin and gently tilted her head up to look at him, "I care about you very much, Éponine… Perhaps, it is even more than that… You have to bear with me while I struggle to convey this precisely… I have never been one to wrestle with words, as you know, but, well, I have never experienced anything quite like this before… And I am unsure as to what it is exactly I am feeling…"

In his bumbling way— Was the great Enjolras really bumbling before her? Éponine had never thought it possible… Well, in his bumbling way, was he saying what she thought he was saying? Was he _falling_ for her?

"And I… desire you, as well, Éponine… So I do wish to… advance things between us. Of course I have no points of comparison, as you know, but somehow… I do not think this is something that we should go into just yet… The whole implication of what it might do to me, given how I feel for you, is rather… _overwhelming_."

"Are you saying that you are not… ready? Because it might change you too much?"

"Yes, perhaps… Is that odd? I am sorry, I do not quite know how these things should go."

"No, I think I understand… Could I clarify one thing though, Enjolras? Are we— Are we… _romantically_ involved?"

"Well… I do not wish to be parted from you, Éponine," he replied simply.

Her heart was hammering loudly inside her chest, but she forced herself to focus on his words.

"I know that we have rather been… _pushed together_ in our current situation, but one day when we are no longer required to be so… I think I shall like to be around you still… So in that sense, then, yes, I think we are romantically involved… Unless you do not wish for us to be so?" He added the last part in an unassured tone. This whole conversation was rather like speaking in a foreign language. He was not quite sure of whether or not he was saying the right thing. But he had tried to be frank with all his admissions.

"Of course I wish this also for us!" She gave him a delighted smile. She leaned forward involuntarily, but then hesitated and asked him sheepishly, "Can I kiss you?"

In response, he met her halfway. He sat up a little and captured her lips with a smile. This time, even though it was a long kiss, it consisted more of soft, blissful caresses, rather than frenzied ones.

When they broke apart, Éponine lay back down on his chest with a sigh of contentment, "If we are not going to make love anytime soon, can I still kiss you though? Will you be able to control yourself?"

Enjolras was silent for a while, contemplating it… "I shall like to kiss you still as well… And as to whether or not I can control myself… Well, I do not say that we shall _never… _lie together… How about this?" And he prompted her to look up at him again, "Do you mind if we wait until I have got my leg back at least? I shall wish to regain my… fitness."

"Is that what you are worried about, Enjolras? You do realize that you do not need to have the full use of your leg. There are other ways we can do this with your cast on. For example, I can just sit—"

And he silenced her then with a hand to her lips. "You really say the most stimulating things, Éponine. I rather like this mouth of yours… But it is not that… I just wish to be fully myself again before we… engage in the act."

"Before we engage in the physical act of love, you mean?"

"Yes, that."

"Say it."

"I shall like to be myself again before you and I… engage in the physical act of love."

"Oh, that is indeed stimulating," she laughed a little. She looked up at him again, "I cannot believe I got you to say those words to me. Whatever happened to that marble statue, whose mistress was _Patria_, who was indifferent to romantic pursuits and who had never been — and did not think he was ever going to be — governed by a _stirring_ for a woman?"

"I was wondering when you were going to bring up those things I said," he replied with amusement. Well, since he was being candid with her, he might as well admit it out loud, "It seems that you have _conquered_ me, Éponine. I suppose there is a first for everything after all…"

He had truly given up on denying his feelings for her. And because of it, he found himself at liberty to share what he felt for her and what he thought of _their_ future, which was something he had been ruminating ever since his talk with Combeferre… "I think that I need to be open with you though. I still feel a strong commitment to this country. I still wish to fight for it somehow, so that is something that you should know about being involved with me, because in a way it shall always be an important part of my life."

"I know that, Enjolras. Your passion is one thing I find very attractive about you."

"I am glad, because it is a significant part of me. But what I was going to say and hopefully you shall find some satisfaction in this… Whereas before I thought that I had to choose — my country or a woman — I am starting to believe that I may be able to have both. Because your presence in my life has in fact made me into a better thinker, a better man, and I hope a better fighter as well. I do envision myself moving forward with you by my side, if you are willing, Éponine. And if that is the case… I shall never again say that _Patria_ is my mistress, because then… well, you shall take that position."

Éponine felt quite overwhelmed by everything that he said, but particularly the last part. _She_, Éponine the _gamine,_ had deposed _Patria_, that abstract wench of a country, in the heart of Enjolras, the marble revolutionary leader? Her heart felt close to bursting when she said, "I would like that very much, Enjolras."

He kissed her head again and tightened his hold on her as a response, "Do you wish to sleep like this tonight?"

"Yes."

"Are you tired yet?"

"Not quite. My heart is beating very loudly."

"Oh… Do you want to talk a bit more then perhaps?"

"What would you like to talk about?"

He thought about it for a while. There was one thing he noticed they'd never quite discussed. She had implied it at times, but she had never gone into the particulars. It was one peculiarity about her, that she could be quite forthcoming in speech but elusive in details, especially lately… "Well… You have by now heard much about my past, but I hardly know a thing about yours, Éponine"

"It is all in the past now," she replied quietly. "If I am to be truthful… I am afraid that you will not like me as much if you heard the things that I have done… I do not wish to lose your affection, Enjolras."

"I do not think that is possible, Éponine… I am of the opinion that we should consider a person for who they are today and who they wish to be in the future. Whatever they may have done in the past, it matters very little if they are trying to be a decent person now. It is like I said when we wrote that pamphlet together, I do not think that anyone is beyond redemption… However, you are correct in saying that the past is in the past, which is why I'd never asked you about this before. But, well, it is also as you mentioned before, this is one way I shall feel closer to you."

Éponine did not look at him but she could feel the sincerity in his words. And his arms were still wrapped around her and his hands were slowly caressing her back in a comforting manner, making her feel safe.

So she started speaking about it very slowly… She began with her childhood, where she was pampered and spoiled and beautiful. That was perhaps something to which Enjolras could relate, given his wealthy background…

Or perhaps not, as he was not one to enjoy the privileges that his birth gave him.

She spoke of how her parents _used_ to be… They were never truly decent people, Éponine realized that, but they were still her parents and there was a time when they did _care_ for her… Her father called her his little girl once and spent his money on her, while her mother put her in pretty dresses and took the time to teach her to read and write…

But any affection that they had for her was struck away with poverty. It generally how it went, she said. In her experience, kindness and righteousness tended to be luxuries that only people with means could afford…

Her story moved to darker times then, when she slowly lost every beautiful thing that she had… She no longer imparted the events chronologically, but rather in bits and pieces, saying whatever occurred to her… She spoke of participating in her parents' criminal schemes, of her once reliance on the bottle, of how she used to live under the bridge and was so hungry one day that she hallucinated… She even told him that she contemplated drowning herself once…

Throughout it all, Enjolras silently listened, his hold on her body unwavering. In her position, she could hear his heart fastening at certain points of her tale, but if he was shocked or disgusted with anything that he'd heard, he gave no indication. Finally, when she could not talk anymore, feeling too emotionally exhausted, he spoke up slowly, "Éponine… I am… sorry to hear that you have experienced so much misfortune in your life… It saddens me… But do not think that I am presenting you with pity, because I genuinely am not and I do not think that you wish that from me anyway… I instead feel… a great _admiration_ for you…."

Éponine turned her head very quickly to look up at him. This was certainly not what she had expected to hear from him.

Enjolras just smiled at her and continued talking, "Despite everything you said you did, Éponine, I am amazed to see you still emerging as the _caring_ person you are today. You must know that I owe my current wellbeing to you. I do not think I could have withstood my time after the barricade as well as I did if it were not for you… However, there _is_ some truth to what you said about righteousness and kindness being luxuries that people cannot afford when they are starving in the streets, without even a place to lay their head at night… But this is why I instead feel… _guilty_ for never noticing your plight before. There I was fighting for _les abaissés_ and yet I did not see you suffering near me… I realize that you do not need my protection now, Éponine, because clearly you are the most fearless girl I have met, but I promise that if you let me… I shall like to take care of you. I will do everything in my power to ensure that you will never go back to how you used to live."

Éponine felt a bit choked up by his words. Her time on the streets had indeed made her very independent, so Enjolras was correct when he said that she did not need him to protect her. And her feelings for Enjolras was such that she had managed to develop into her own person that was separate to him, that even if he were not around constantly in her future (the thought that he might need to return to his aristocratic family did not escape her after all), she would not fall apart, that she would persist somehow, find some way to make a living for herself, so that she would not need to return to her family and her life on the streets. _This_ was perhaps the most valuable thing that Enjolras had given her… This confidence in herself and her future.

So yes, she did not strictly _require_ Enjolras to take care of her, but the fact that he offered… And in such a sincere way too, with no trace of condescension, just because he cared about her and wanted her to be all right… Éponine found that she was close to being overcome by her feelings for this man.

She leaned her face up so that she could nuzzle the underside of his jawline and planted a kiss there, "Thank you, Enjolras. Thank you for listening to me and not judging me and even offering to look after me… I hope that I shall be able to take care of you too. This thing between us should be reciprocal, no?"

He recalled how he once said to her that he did not know much about… _love_, but thought that it should be 'reciprocal', so yes, he could only agree with her. He turned his head slightly to plant an earnest kiss on her temple.

They needed not say any further words between them. They were simply comfortable just lying there in silence, wrapped up in each other's embrace, until sleep finally came to claim them.

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**Author's Notes:** I know, I know! So much fluff! Argh, to be honest, I don't know if I like it, but I felt that they are due for a 'relationship' talk, where they also put their cards on the table in terms of what each wants from the other, uh, physically…

I said once that I am very much like Enjolras, so I don't quite like writing the emotional stuff, but from my experience, someone like him can only do all or nothing. Either he commits to this thing wholeheartedly and speak honestly about his feelings to Éponine, or he backs out of it completely. I think Enjolras is finished with denial, don't you? But yeah, ugh, that was a bitch to write and I hope you don't find him super OOC.

As to Éponine, I think her arc is different. Because in a way, she is emotionally fearless. She doesn't fear a broken heart, so I think she's been freer with whatever she wishes to feel for Enjolras. However, at the same time, she may actually find it harder to share with him emotionally and to rely on him. Éponine as a character is very independent and strong, so she is not looking for someone to protect her, but just to love her.

This is why I don't want to go the route that I see often in E/É fics, whereby Enjolras becomes super protective and Éponine rather becomes a damsel-in-distress, who needs her life put back together for her because Marius broke her heart. Yes, Enjolras can be protective, but he is also respectful of a person's independence, so I think he would acknowledge the fact that Éponine is one such strong, independent woman and respect her all the more for it. And yes, Éponine could be melodramatic, wanting to die at the barricade, but I think that was prompted by having a lack of options. Freed from that desperate situation, I think she would regain her independence and pride.

Anyway, I'm rambling… What did you think of this chapter? A bit iffy from the gooey bits? Leave me a review or PM if you wish and follow/favorite if you like it!

Oh and guess what! I am on tumblr!

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Feel free to follow and I shall follow you back. À bientot!


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer:** _Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes:** GOOD LORD, this was the longest I took between chapters, I think! I'm quite sorry. I've only discovered tumblr and it is REALLY HARD to get off. Seriously, some of you who follow me there might need to send me the occasional message telling me to remove myself from its enticing embrace.

Ha ha. That last sentence should tell you where my frame of mind is after I had just finished this chapter.

Anyway… THANK YOU SO MUCH for the many kind reviews/messages/follows/favorites both here and on tumblr. I've had quite a few new readers who told me that they are hooked on this story or had never shipped É/E before until this fic. YES! I quite like converting people! So without further ado, enjoy this EXTRA LONG CHAPTER!

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**Chapter 24**

Despite the romantic status that had been established between them, Enjolras and Éponine were surprised to find that their day-to-day relationship did not change very much. If anything, things became easier, as they were able to be more candid with each other. After all the dramatic moments that they had had to live through prior and up to the events on the barricade, truth be told they were rather grateful for the stable bond that they had with each other.

So they continued their daily routines more or less the same. One significant different was that Enjolras almost always now wanted to sleep with Éponine in his embrace. She asked whether his arm would not hurt if she lay on it all night, but he just dismissed her concerns. In fact, he found himself sleeping more soundly when Éponine, with her warmth and sweet scent, was pressed up against him. He wondered if it really was this easy sharing a bed with another person.

Somehow, he thought that it was only because it was Éponine though. He could not envision himself wanting to sleep with another girl. Sometimes, when he thought of how he had managed to get himself involved with a woman, he could hardly believe it. But given how things evolved between them, he could hardly see it going another way. It seemed that the two of them were bound to collide at some point.

Nevertheless, Enjolras quickly sobered up somewhat from his current… _blissful_ existence when a letter from Combeferre arrived, informing him that his father was coming to Paris.

"_I apologize for being abrupt, _mon ami_. I thought that you would want to hear this news as soon as possible. Affixed is a letter that your father sent me, sensing that I know where you really are and are able to get a message across to you (well, he is not wrong, is he?). Fear not, I will do my best to deflect him when he comes calling to my place. And if you stay hidden in the convent, he will not find you as easily, but you do have to think about how you would face him eventually. Once he is in Paris, it will not take him long to discover your fugitive status, Enjolras, and his wrath, I assume, would be preferable to confront than that of the law (he will surely not give you up to be arrested, will he?). You will not be able to avoid him forever. _

_Nevertheless, let me end on a good note and say that I am extremely joyous to hear that you and Éponine have progressed your relationship to romance. Tell me more about it if you will one of these days, Enjolras. I shall also take time to write you a longer letter next time._"

The last part was in response to a quick note Enjolras had sent to Combeferre after his talk with Éponine. He figured he might as well keep his friend apprised of the romantic development.

But concerning what Combeferre had said of his father, Enjolras had never known the man to show anything close to 'wrath' in his life, as the latter was much too dormant even for anger. It was in fact how Enjolras had gotten away with most of the rebellious things that he'd done. As long as the family name and reputation were maintained, his parents had rather let him do whatever he wanted.

However, after reading his father's correspondence to Combeferre, Enjolras was quite surprised to see the man putting in much effort to discover his whereabouts. Apparently, he had written to several of his old military contacts in Algiers and requested that they seriously look into his son's presence in the colony. Unsurprisingly, he soon received a response declaring that, as far as they could tell, his son was not, nor had he ever been, anywhere in Algeria. By that point — as his father wrote to Combeferre — he was no longer surprised, because he had also received a letter from the University announcing that his son had been expelled for not attending any of his classes.

"_As you can see, _Monsieur_ Combeferre, it seems that my son has been lying to his mother and myself. You may think that you are being a loyal friend, shielding his whereabouts from the both of us, but knowing him, I suspect that he has gotten himself into a fair bit of trouble. And I do not doubt that you are able to pass on a message to him, so please let him know that I shall come to Paris and I will find him. Whatever the reasons are for his deception, we will handle them __as a family__._"

Yes, that really was as stern as his father could manage. He wondered if he would finally see the man truly lose his temper when he discovered the warrant out for his arrest. There really was only one thing that both his parents had requested from him before he left for Paris. He was to ensure that whatever he did, the family name would not to be tainted with scandal or criminality.

Well, he had certainly broken that rule, had he not?

Enjolras thought hard about what he should do about this situation. Combeferre was completely correct, of course, that he could not avoid his father forever. And the man was not so cold that he would hand him over to the law, though he probably cared more about the disgrace that such a thing would bring to the family name, more than the thought of his son going to prison. As to them handling the matter 'as a family', he guessed that his father's preference would be to bring him home, hiding him from trouble and away from the prying eyes and ears of Parisian gossip. So in a way, he _could_ likely find a safe passage out of the city with his father.

But what of Éponine? His father would surely not let him take her home with them… And would she _want_ to come along? She had signed up to be his… _romantic partner_, but would that extend to going into further hiding with him? And for how long? For the rest of their lives? He almost felt that he would rather face the authorities head on than be forced to keep lurking in the dark. But once again, his thought returned to Éponine. He had promised to take care of her. How was he going to do that if he was inside a cell? So it seemed that his choice was between returning home with his father, without Éponine, or facing the law and going to jail, again without Éponine.

Or…

He _could_ try to stay in hiding from _both_ his father and the law and remained with Éponine. Perhaps the two of them could run away together somewhere. He would have to continue his fight in secret and in a much smaller scale, at least until he had acquired new identities for the both of them. He could possibly confide in Jean Valjean and enquire as to how the man had managed to avoid arrest all these years. He could not deny that he rather liked the idea of himself as a phantom revolutionary figure, fighting for freedom anonymously from some unknown location, building his follower base slowly from the ground up until one day they could all step into the light and set ablaze the fires of revolution. Of course, he would not have the luxury of his family finances to back him up, so he would have to figure out a way to make a living for himself, but he was never afraid of living modestly and at least this way he could be with Éponine.

This was surely not the kind of life he thought he could have envisioned for himself a few months ago, but he could not see any other solution presently.

As such, he scribbled a quick note back to Combeferre saying that for the moment he would be staying still and, yes, if Combeferre could do his best to throw his father off his trail, that would be much appreciated. In the meantime, he wondered if he should tell Éponine.

No, no sense in worrying her just yet. This thing between them was still quite new and he did not wish to alarm her before he absolutely needed to. He had promised to be as honest with her as possible, but there really was nothing she could do about his father coming to Paris and, well… a little part of him was afraid that Éponine might try to be… selfless and… give him up, give _them_ up, in favor of him going home with his father. He could not let that happen.

So the next time he sat down for his talk with Jean Valjean, he decided to be forthcoming and imparted his predicament to the other man. Valjean listened quietly and then told him that he knew where Enjolras might get some quality identity papers if he really wished to go down this road. However, the old man also advised that Enjolras should try and reconcile his situation with his father, as it did not sound like the two men were estranged.

No, Enjolras admitted, they were not, but there was just one issue. He then went on to disclose his recently formed relationship with Éponine to Valjean.

Now that Enjolras thought about it, Valjean had been quite incurious about the nature of the bond between the two young people who were living alongside him. He must have known that Enjolras and Éponine were not romantically attached when they all first arrived at the convent. And yet the old man did not seem surprised at all to discover that they had now become involved. He supposed that, given his past, Valjean was someone who would have the utmost respect for other people's privacy.

Hearing about this new romantic development, Valjean only nodded and said that he was glad to hear the two of them progressing together in love. He counseled Enjolras that if they wished to elope together, to escape both his family and the law, then they needed to be certain about the path that they were taking.

Valjean's own life with Cosette could be used as an example, as he might have been able to steer Cosette away to all sorts of hiding places when she was a girl, but as she became an adult, he must let her go and set her free to make a life for herself. Enjolras' situation was clearly different, but if he were to bring Éponine into hiding with him, he needed to make her aware of precisely what she would be giving up. Valjean clearly knew more than anybody that living in a constant fear of capture, always having to shield one's own identity, was not an easy life to undertake, even when shared with a loved one.

Enjolras listened carefully to Valjean's words. Was he being selfish by wanting Éponine to come with him? He did not yet dare say the word 'love' when thinking about his relationship with her, but was it heading that way? And if so, was he ready to ask her to give up her life and run away with him? Would… _love _be enough to sustain them, if that really was what they were growing to feel for each other?

Looking at Valjean though, Enjolras could not fail to notice that love was indeed becoming a recurring theme in the talks between them. The man's life was ruled by it. Ironically, not romantic love, but certainly love for his fellow human beings. It was what made Enjolras want to listen to absolutely everything about Jean Valjean's life. He had even started writing the story down.

The old Enjolras, the fiery spirited being that existed before the barricade, would have used Valjean's mostly sad tale as kindling to fuel the fire of his speeches, but now… Well, he did not think that he had changed _drastically_, but… the _new_ him, this current version of him, just wanted the tale written down somewhere, for posterity perhaps, so that people might have the opportunity to hear the remarkable account one day, about this man who had had to face so much misery in his life and yet kept on giving. Jean Valjean went to jail for nineteen years because he stole a meager loaf of bread for his sister and her starving children. And then he reinvented himself as this _Monsieur_ Madeleine, the Mayor of _Montreuil-sur-Mer, _who used the fortune he earned in revolutionizing the town's manufacturing for the the hospitals and orphanages and schools. Valjean had recently come to the portion of his life that concerned Fantine, Cosette's poor, tragic mother…

Enjolras listened with rapt attention, momentarily forgetting his own significantly less dire circumstances. He could not help but think that Fantine's was a fate that could have easily been Éponine's had the events gone a different way. He felt both grief for the former and relief for the latter at the realization.

Meanwhile, as Enjolras was using their room to converse with _Monsieur_ Valjean, Éponine decided to go to the garden and laze about under the sun with a book. She was smiling to herself at something that Enjolras did this morning when she felt someone standing over her.

"How do you do, _Madame_?" asked Gabrielle in a friendly tone.

"I am very well, Gabrielle," replied Éponine with a smile. "How are you?"

"Quite fine. Would you mind if I join you?"

"Not at all. It is your recreation hour, isn't it?"

"Yes, which is why I thought I would see what you are up to, _Madame_. I know that I am not due to—" And she looked around to see if anyone could overhear and said the next part in a whisper, "—to visit your room, _Madame_, but I could use the company."

"Well, I do not mind it. I am only reading this book here, as my husband is having a chat with his grandfather." Éponine then did a look around herself, "Where is Justine by the way? You two are normally joined at the hip."

"Oh, you will not believe it, _Madame_! Justine did something in class today and as a result she is serving her punishment at the moment."

"What happened?" Éponine asked in surprise.

Gabrielle did not seem worried about her friend's predicament, however, but instead looked rather excited, though she still conveyed the following story in a low voice, lest anyone overheard, "Well, you see, _Madame_, Justine had very daringly turned up in school this morning wearing a red ribbon in her hair. I told her that she would get in trouble, but she was feeling bold. It was most definitely a tribute to _Monsieur_ Émile, I am rather sorry to say, _Madame_, as she has noticed that he quite likes the color red… Anyway, when our teacher asked her to take it off, instead of complying like she normally would, Justine actually talked back! She asked, why does she have to? It is only a ribbon in her hair after all. It is not an expensive thing that would invite the envy of our classmates. It is not a vain item that she uses to accentuate her beauty, though if that is the case, why is that not allowed? We are girls after all. What girl does not wish to look pretty? But no, she said that the ribbon is simply something that she likes and wishes to wear in her hair. Why does she have to take it off if it does not disturb how she herself or her classmates would learn? Our teacher replied that it is simply the rules and Justine must obey, but she just would not let it go. She asked, where did the rules come from? Then — and this really was the most daring thing she said in the whole episode, _Madame_ — she questioned whether or not the rules came from God after all. She said she doubted whether God the Almighty would concern Himself with whether or not a schoolgirl wears a silly ribbon in her hair to class. My goodness, I could see everyone in class looking frightfully at the exchange! Justine has always been quite bold in speech, _Madame_, but she had never gone that far before. To be completely truthful, I was feeling rather exhilarated by her speech as well and was about to speak up, but Justine gave me this smile and a little shake of her head, telling me not to go down with her. I think she perhaps wanted me to find you, _Madame_, and tell you this, so that you could relay it to your husband. Justine really has been feeling quite inspired by our last meeting with him. Between the two of us, she has been questioning the many things that we are told we must do in this school."

"Oh, no, Gabrielle. This is not good. I am very sorry that Émile's words have gotten Justine in trouble." Éponine would say that it was not his intention, but then she would not be quite truthful, would she?

"Don't be, _Madame_. Truth be told, we are slowly beginning to see sense in his words. The books that he and yourself have recommended for us to read are quite enlightening in this regard as well, though I would not mind speaking some more with your husband and picking his brain. I must admit that I am rather meeker than Justine in nature, but I will be untruthful if I say that I am not also contemplating my existence here in this school. And with my family as well. If there is not a way I could escape it all."

_Enjolras really has planted the seeds of revolution in these girls_, thought Éponine. While she could not help but feel a bit excited for them (Enjolras had seemingly gotten through to _her_ as well, she supposed), she also hoped that this path would not lead them to their own version of a failed 'rebellion' and all its painful ramifications.

"What do you think, _Madame_? Do you think there is a way after all I can stop my life being decided by my wretched parents?"

"I am not sure, Gabrielle. I sense that you wish for freedom above all."

"Yes, that is very much it, _Madame_."

"My husband calls it _Liberté_," Éponine said with a smile. "Yet you should know that freedom comes with a price. For example, to be truly free from your parents, you would have to give up all the good things that come from their riches. You may think it an awful fate to be married to a man you do not love, but if that man is wealthy — which I assume he most definitely will be, from what you told me of your parents' preferences for a suitor — then he would at least be able care for you, money-wise. You will never have to work, will never starve in the street, will never be forced to sell what beauty you'll have left to stay alive…"

Gabrielle looked at the _Madame_ in amazement, wondering if this was a fate that thelatter knew personally. Seemingly to have read her mind, Éponine continued with a rueful expression, "I shall not wish to scandalize you with my life's tale, Gabrielle, but let me say that I know what it feels like to be impoverished without a semblance of hope or a future. You would do anything to get out of the pit of despair. You would even tolerate being with a cruel man, just as long as he could take care of you and keep you from starving."

The girl's expression turned to sorrow then and she reached out to give Éponine's hands a comforting squeeze. The latter looked up at her and smiled in gratitude, "I also know what it feels like to have parents who care very little for my wellbeing and only wish to use me to advance their own needs, Gabrielle."

"How did you break free of them, _Madame_? Was it by marrying _Monsieur_ Émile?"

"That is one way," Éponine replied in an ambivalent tone. "I suppose I am very lucky to have met Émile. He has saved my life in more ways than he would ever know. He has provided me with a kindness and care that I have never known possible in my life. But the most valuable thing that he has given me, you may be curious to find, is this belief that I can exist _independently_ alongside him. See, despite what I said earlier about desperation prompting you to tolerate the company of cruel men, I would certainly advise you against doing so. After all, why exchange the prison of your parents' control for another? I think the true source of freedom is having a way to make a living for yourself. So, Gabrielle, if you are serious about fleeing your parents, then the best way, I think, is for you to firstly go away to a place where they cannot find you, and then secondly, by trying to earn money for yourself, lest you be tempted to return to them. Of course this shall not be easy and you will no longer be able to afford all the nice things that you currently have."

"I am not afraid of a simple life, _Madame_. In fact, that is all I have ever wanted, really. I would love to live in a small house and lead a plain existence, preferably with someone I love and who loves me in return. I wish, in short, for the kind of life that you seem to have with your husband, _Madame_. I do not need to wear pretty dresses or go to fancy balls or have servants attend to my every need. I want to be able to select a future for myself."

"Well, if that is the case, then you should start thinking about a trade which you can get into. Do you have any skills that you would be able to apply to a profession?"

"My education here sadly only prepares me to be either a wife or a nun. But... I suppose I do have an education… Perhaps I can possibly become a governess?"

"Yes, I think that is good. And you will not likely have to worry about lodging, as I think most are employed to live in the household? But you shall need references. Most of these rich families would not hire a girl off the street. Perhaps you could ask your classmates for help? Do you know anyone whose family might need to employ a governess for their younger children?"

"That is good thinking, Madame!" Gabrielle added with a mischievous smile, "My parents have always wanted me to use my connection to my wealthy classmates after all. I shall ask around."

"This sounds like a good plan, Gabrielle."

"Thank you, Madame. It really helps talking to you about it."

"I am glad I could assist," replied Éponine with a smile.

* * *

It was a few days later and Enjolras could not sleep. His mind was filled with thoughts of his father's pending arrival in Paris, and his situation with Éponine, and the cast on his leg, which was due to be taken off in the coming weeks, and also about _Mademoiselle_ Justine, whose standoff against her teacher was first relayed to him by Éponine and then by the girl herself when she next visited.

Yes, the last one was a minor event, all things considered, but Enjolras could not help but feel rather energized that he was responsible for the girl's first act of rebellion against what he considered to be an outdated institution. And what was most rewarding was that it did not seem that the _mademoiselle_ was motivated by a simple desire to impress him. Granted, the girl had certainly wished to do that to _some_ extent, but overall, Enjolras could tell that what he said had gotten through to her after all.

Finally giving up on slumber, Enjolras decided to go outside, to get some fresh air, or sneak into the kitchen and fix himself a little snack. There was only one problem. He was quite fixed in his position, because Éponine was sleeping almost completely on top of him. He looked down on her with much fondness. She really looked quite endearing when she slept, with her fingers curled up near her lips and her nose crinkling at times, as she possibly dreamed.

He moved slowly, scooting himself towards the edge of the bed. He lifted Éponine off his chest as gently as he could manage, intending to lay her back down on the mattress without disturbing her slumber. But he must not have done such a tender job, because she roused immediately.

"Where are you going?" she asked sleepily. Her eyes were barely open, but her fingers instinctively reached for his.

"I can't sleep. I am just going to step outside for a bit."

"Let me come with you then. Just give me a moment to wake up," she rubbed the sleep off her eyes and then sat up in bed, yawning lazily.

"I am sorry I woke you, Éponine. You were sleeping soundly."

"It is no matter. I have had such nice, peaceful sleep lately, with you," she beamed at him.

He could not resist placing his hand on her hair and replied with a smile of his own, "I am happy to hear it."

"Maybe you should take a break though from having me wrapped up against you all night? It is perhaps why you are having trouble sleeping?"

He leaned over and gave her a kiss, lingering a little, "I doubt it very much."

She caressed his cheeks and studied his face. He did have a tired countenance, "It is the thoughts then? Let us go outside. It should freshen you up a bit and you can tell me all about it."

They soon made their way through the dark, quiet convent structure, heading towards the kitchen. They decided to just sit down with a glass of milk. Enjolras had wanted some coffee, but Éponine thought that it was not such a great idea, given his sleeping issues.

"So what is bothering you? Is it Justine's little act of rebellion? Somehow I doubt it though," asked Éponine with a small smile.

"No, you are right, that is not it. I must say that the _mademoiselle_ rather… _impresses_ me. She is bolder and more focused on my words than I had initially thought."

"Well, considering that she has been focused on _all things_ about you, Enjolras, I am not surprised that your words are one of them."

She then told him of her little planet and sun joke.

"Oh, very clever, Éponine" he said sardonically.

She giggled, "But you _are_ the Apollo, Enjolras. I suspect you were many people's sun when you were out there… _speechifying_."

Enjolras was rather impressed by her vocabulary, "Where did you hear that word?"

Éponine looked sheepish, "I don't know. In one of the many books you got me to read? I used it correctly, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did."

"Well, my point is, you are _inspirational_ to hear and _beautiful_ to behold, Enjolras. No wonder _Mademoiselle_ Justine is absolutely _enraptured_ by you," she teased.

"Stop it..." He did not suppress his chuckle though, "I am rather regretting helping you learn all these unusual words if you are just going to use them to torment me."

"I cannot help it if I find you… _adorable_ when flustered."

"You are the only person who can say such things to me, Éponine." Nevertheless, he could not stop himself from smiling and taking her hand. He was feeling better already. Simply speaking with Éponine had had this effect on him lately. Still, he was not quite ready to tell her about his father, so he returned the subject to the schoolgirl, "But anyway, as I was saying, _Mademoiselle_ Justine rather impresses me with her boldness. I had thought her a meek girl, which would not have been through much fault of her own, mind you, considering how she grows up in this convent. Do you know that she has been here since she was five?"

"Has she? Yes, Gabrielle told me that Justine's family has rather abandon her here."

"Well, it is a wonder that she does not cower in my sight. In fact, in our last session, she said that, despite her punishment, she has had several other girls come up to her, rather discreetly later, and told her that they admire her bravery, that they would not have dared to do what she did themselves, but that they think that she might have a point. She asked for my advice on how to handle it."

Éponine felt quite amused indeed, "Look what you have done, Enjolras! You are igniting the fire of revolution from within a convent and among religious schoolgirls!"

Enjolras was indeed looking quite pleased with himself, "I told you there is a trend towards change everywhere, even inside our most archaic and strictest establishments."

"Yes, I can see how this rejuvenates you." Éponine wondered whether she should tell him about how _she herself_ was also bringing about change, though at a more personal level through Gabrielle, by helping the girl figure out a way to make a life for herself once she had finished her schooling.

No, Éponine thought that for now, she would keep this — as Musichetta would say — 'just between us girls'. So she said instead, "So if you are feeling fine with Justine's development, then why can't you sleep? What else is in your mind, Enjolras?"

He thought about it for a while before answering tentatively, "Well, I am thinking about _us_…"

"Oh."

He reached for her hand again, "I still mean what I said, that I want to be with you, Éponine, to have you beside me moving forwards… But you do realize that I am a fugitive, don't you? I wonder if you understand the life that you would be giving up if you were to stay with me."

Éponine gave him a rather rueful smile, "What life? You do know that I did not quite have a life before the barricade, don't you, Enjolras, before you and your friends came into it?"

"Regardless, you might have one now and I do not wish for you to give it all up for me, to only live for me, Éponine."

He hoped that he would not be touching on a sore point with this comment, but thankfully Éponine only looked at him with a soft expression, "Do not fret, Enjolras. Despite what I said earlier, _I_ do not think that you are the sun and I the little planet that revolves around you. I hope you do not find that un-romantic."

"No, I am rather… _relieved_."

"I am glad. Because I instead feel that you are a good… _companion_ for me. I want to come with you not because I wish to _follow_ you. No, I want to be _beside_ you and _with_ you as well. I think you are good for me. And, well— Oh you are going to make me blush. I think you... _fulfil_ me," she looked up at him, her face indeed feeling warm. "And of course I understand that you will have to live on the run, Enjolras. You do realize that I — perhaps more than any other _jeunes filles_ with whom you could have possibly involved yourself — know what it is like to live outside the law, don't you?"

Enjolras' expression brightened somewhat, "I suppose that you are right on that account, Éponine. But truth be told, I had rather hoped that I would be able to offer a different kind of life for you, one where you are free to pursue a trade, perhaps, if you so wish. Do you know that Combeferre's offer still stands? He will be able to find training or work for you as a caretaker."

"Yes, that is my initial plan as well, but, well, things change. For now, I do not wish to be parted from you, Enjolras," she stated simply, echoing what he had said to her before. "And besides, I am young still. There shall be time for me to go into it later. Once you have papers and we have found a place to live perhaps."

"I _have_ actually enquired as to how I might acquire a new identity."

"Have you? With whom?"

"Well…" He started slowly, "I wonder if you know the true story of _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent?"

"Do you mean _Monsieur _Valjean?"

Enjolras nodded, "He told you his real name then? Yes, the man really has the most remarkable life account."

"I do not know the whole of it, but I will not be surprised if he knows ways for you to get papers. And once you do, I wonder…"

"What is it?"

"Do you still wish to visit your friends' graves and families first?" And then she added in an unassured tone, "Would you want me to come along or would you prefer to do so alone?"

Enjolras took some time to think about it and then replied resolutely, "I would very much appreciate your presence, Éponine. I think I shall need the emotional support."

She gave him a bright smile, "Then I will come with you. Is this what has been disturbing your slumber? Do you worry about making a fugitive out of me?"

"Yes, mostly," Looking at her sweet face, he decided that he could not yet tell her of the predicament with his father. He wanted to preserve this happy state between them for as long as possible, so he said to her, "I am feeling better though, thanks to you."

"Aren't you glad that you have involved yourself with a former _gamin_e like me, someone who does not scare easily from a little criminal conviction? I might even teach you a thing or two about living outside the law."

Enjolras had to laugh, "You seem to be teaching me many things lately. I am quite lucky."

He trailed off then because Éponine had scooted closer in her seat and was tilting her face up at him...

"My lessons are rather motivated by selfish reasons though," she whispered before pressing her lips to his.

Enjolras would never grow tired of _this_, of kissing her. He loved just about everything about it... The soft feel of her lips, the skin of her face, her neck, and possibly _everywhere else_... He supposed he would find out for himself one day... He liked her scent and her taste. He was particularly in favor of the small noises she made when he moved his lips a certain way or when he touched her in a particular place. And, yes, he particularly adored how his hands fit perfectly on the small of her back, tracing the curve of her waist down to her hips...

Éponine broke the kiss first, "Finish your milk. Let us see if I can _comfort_ you to sleep."

Enjolras very much doubted it, as the idea of Éponine... _comforting_ him was enough to make his mind alert with desire. He could think of little else as the two of them navigated the deserted corridors of the convent.

Unfortunately, the way was apparently not as abandoned as it appeared, because they suddenly saw the faint light and heard the unmistakable sounds of people coming to their direction.

Acting quickly, Éponine half-pulled, half-supported Enjolras, along with his crutch, to a shadowy corner off the main hallway.

Enjolras ended up with his back against the wall and Éponine being pressed up against him, the top of her head just underneath his nose. His right arm had to hold his crutch, but his left circled around her waist and pulled her close, as they had to flatten themselves as much as possible to avoid being seen.

The light halted at the spot where they just stood. It seemed that the newcomers had stopped there to talk. Enjolras and Éponine could not quite make out what they were saying, as they were speaking in a low voice, but they sounded like nuns and not on their way to their routine post.

They expected the nuns to depart straight away, but instead they stood rooted to the spot for a long time. Perhaps they were waiting for something or someone else to come. Since their escape route was blocked, Enjolras and Éponine had no choice but to try and keep as still and as quiet as possible, lest they be caught.

After a while though, Éponine grew bored. She suddenly had a wicked idea...

She stood on tiptoe, so that she could bring her mouth close to Enjolras' right ear and said very quietly, "I may just use this time to teach you something new. It is called, 'try to keep your focus in a public place, upon the thrill of discovery'."

She then kissed his earlobe softly, scraping it gently with her teeth and touching it with the tip of her tongue.

"Éponine…." he said in a warning tone. His hand on her back tensed up in response, his fingers digging into the fabric of her clothes. He leaned his face down close to her ear, "I do not think it is the moment for this."

"Do you not? I think it is the _perfect_ moment. Try and concentrate, will you? One of us needs to keep watch and I am rather busy," She closed her mouth on his earlobe again and then started trailing small kisses across his jawline. As she did not need to help Enjolras to stand, her hands were also free to find their way underneath his shirt collar and explore the skin of his chest, his shoulders, and up his neck...

"Éponine," he whispered again, but the tone was filled less with warning and more with longing.

She did not bother to reply. Her lips soon went to where her hands had just been moments before. No longer needing to stand on tiptoe, she kissed the skin of his chest, right in between his collarbones.

Enjolras thought it unfair that Éponine got to enjoy herself by tormenting and teasing him like this. His mind was becoming foggy. He could barely focus on the nuns, who were still standing around barely meters from them.

He did not realize that his left hand was making its way up Éponine's back until he found himself tugging on her hair slightly, pulling her head back to look up at him. She had a mischievous glint in her eyes. She was about to say something, but he needed to keep her quiet…

It really was too easy for him to bring his head down and crash his lips onto hers, silencing her words… So he did... And with an almost frustrated growl, his hand tangling in her hair.

He kissed her almost furiously, his teeth biting down on her lips and his mouth moving as if he wished to devour her. Éponine, who had never seen Enjolras this... _ferocious_ in his kissing felt rather exhilarated by the development. She really should have… _prompted_ him like this much earlier.

She was to be surprised some more, as she soon felt herself being lifted slightly. Because Enjolras had the wall behind him for support, he did not have to completely lean on his crutch to be able to remain standing. As such, he was able to use both his hands to grab hold of Éponine around her waist and hoisted her off the ground. She circled her arms around his neck and looked down on him, as she continued kissing him.

He thought he now understood what she meant when she referred to the 'thrill of discovery', because there was something exhilarating about doing _this_ with _her here_, especially when the people from whom they were hiding were just _right there_.

Unfortunately for the pair, the 'thrill of discovery' very soon became the 'reality of discovery'…

The prioress had had to clear her throat several times before the couple, who were clearly too preoccupied with being wrapped up in each other, broke apart and faced the group of people who had stumbled upon them.

There were four nuns, overall, including the prioress, and two students, one of whom was Justine and the other was an unknown. All six women, however, were looking stunned, the nuns more aghast, alarmed, and even appalled, while the schoolgirls more agog and awestruck.

This was it then. They had been ceremoniously exposed. There was just no way they could get out of this without any serious repercussions. Their life at the convent might just have come to an end.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I'm annoyed that I missed this milestone, but last chapter, I reached 100,000 words! WOW. I don't think I've ever written so much _ever_. I think this is the 2nd longest É/E on ffnet. So _félicitations_ to me! Haha. In celebration, let's play a game. There is an Aaron Tveit reference I inserted in this chapter. If you can tell me what it is, then you get a prize! I don't know what that would be though. Virtual cookie? Or maybe you want a small preview of the next chapter?

A couple of my readers were very astute and asked about Enjolras' father and Jean Valjean in their reviews for previous chapters. Bravo! Yes, I had planned for both to come into the story a bit more :-).

And I think in this chapter, you could start to see why I had to introduce the original characters, Justine and Gabrielle, into the story. I had purposely got Justine to bond with Enjolras and Gabrielle with Éponine to show the different kinds of impact that E/É as a evolutionary couple would have on the people around them. Stay tuned to see what happens next!

But speaking of É/E as a revolutionary couple, I think one reason why Éponine is a perfect match for Enjolras is because she has that criminal background, which makes her unlike any other 'proper' girls. Éponine certainly would not shy away from Enjolras' more radical nature and tendency to go outside the law. This is why I think out of any canon female characters, Éponine was the only with whom I think Enjolras could have fallen in love.

Finally, yes, É/E got busted making out! Bwahaha… I cannot tell you how long I've wanted to write that scene. You guys know I hate cliffhangers, but that was the only way I could've ended it. So what do you think will happen next?

I spent some time last weekend to jot down a couple of notes on where I want this story to go, so fret not, I have a plan, but I might just need that extra push from my readers to continue writing, so do review or message me if you can. Shameless plug: If you have tumblr, follow me on caderyn tumblr com and I shall follow you back. Otherwise, follow/favorite the story if you like it!

Happy Easter!


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer:** _Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes: **I'm sorry for the cliffhanger, folks! But I promise that I resolved it immediately at the start of this chapter. The solution to my Aaron Tveit reference from the previous chapter was "Run Away with Me" (Enjolras thought about asking Éponine to run away with him). If you have not seen the video of Aaron singing that, go find it immediately, especially if you also ship him with Samantha Barks. Congratulations to **Drowl**_, _who got the reference first, so this chapter is dedicated to you!

I must also do a shout-out to **Lilycup**, who actually got two Tveit references, even though I had only consciously put one! The second one was "Wicked" (Aaron was Fiyero in "Wicked" and I wrote "Éponine had a wicked idea"). I swear I did not do that on purpose, but since you noticed it, I must give my props to you. Honorable mentions go to **Maiqu **and** hairontveit** for getting the reference as well. Hopefully I haven't missed anyone.

Also, to **fredandblueinatree**, I was going to PM, but you have disabled the function. The idea of head canon Hugo is very interesting, though I had not considered it that way… Well, we shall see, won't we? Thanks for your comment! You're very astute ;-).

Thanks to the rest of you for your amazing feedback both here and on tumblr. And thank you also for the new follows and faves. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 25**

In the aftermath, _Madame_ Morel helped Enjolras and Éponine find some lodging near the convent, as the pair still wished to be close to _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent.

Indeed, Jean Valjean had tried to persuade the prioress to change her mind when the latter insisted that the couple leave the convent _tout de suite_. She had been rather incensed by the fact that they had not only left their room to roam the convent grounds at night, against permission, but was engaging in… _unsavory acts_ in full view of anyone who might be walking past. And indeed, what was worse was that the episode had been witnessed by two of the students, one of whom, _Mademoiselle_ Babineaux, had been causing trouble lately. The girl certainly did not need any further encouragement.

No, the prioress could not tolerate this sort of behavior. She should not have allowed a young, married couple such as them to live inside convent grounds in the first place. She had conceded because it was _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent's grandson and she thought that his injury would render him immobile and therefore confined to his room. But she should have clued in to the fact that they were newlyweds and, as such, were more likely to be quite… _amorous_ with each other. So the prioress had expressly asked the pair of them to leave. _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent could stay if he so wished, but his grandson, in particular, was not to be allowed inside the convent again.

Despite the prioress' best efforts though, news of the couple's transgression and subsequent ouster from the convent spread rapidly through the boarding school, no doubt via Justine and Renata, the latter of whom was the unknown girl with Justine that night. If the schoolgirls were barely aware of the young couple's presence in the convent before then, they were surely now curious to find out absolutely everything about them. From the day after the incident occurred to when the couple was due to depart, the boarding school and dormitory were filled with plenty of whispers and barely concealed conversations among many of the older girls. They continued to interrogate Justine and Renata once the two had finished serving their punishment for being out of their beds that night. The nuns had certainly warned them to keep what they saw to themselves, but, well, Justine was garnering a reputation for being a little rule-breaker and Renata was much too exhilarated by the event to keep quiet.

Nevertheless, Justine and Gabrielle were keeping their previous encounters with _Monsieur_ Émile and _Madame_ Éponine strictly to themselves, as they did not wish to make things worse by exposing the couple's further dealings with the schoolgirls. Justine, in particular, was feeling remorseful that her conduct had contributed to the couple's exposure that night and expulsion from the convent. She decided to write them a note of apology, which was passed on to Enjolras and Éponine via Gabrielle and _Madame_ Morel.

She addressed the letter to 'the venerated _Monsieur_ Émile and _Madame_ Éponine'. It seemed that Justine had a flair for the dramatics at her most contrite, but it was also the first time that the girl had addressed Éponine directly, albeit via writing. The girl was extremely regretful about causing the couple to be caught in one of their 'nocturnal outings'. She explained that her intention that night was only to help her classmate, Renata. Apparently, the other girl had approached Justine after the red ribbon incident to commiserate about how their teacher had confiscated the offending object. She too had had something very dear to her seized when she had inadvertently brought it to class one day. It was an inexpensive brooch, she said, but it belonged to a cherished childhood friend of hers whom she was terribly missing.

While the ribbon in itself mattered very little to Justine, she suddenly felt the need to help Renata get her item back. So the two hatched a plan, whereby they would sneak into the prioress' office, while Gabrielle covered for their absence and kept watch at the dormitory. It all seemed to be going rather smoothly, the girls were able to recover the trinket with relative ease, but then on their way back, they ceremoniously bumped into the prioress herself and another nun who was on her way to post. The girls had mapped out their return route carefully to avoid detection, but it seemed that they were simply unfortunate that the nuns had taken an alternate path that night. Their only consolation was that the nuns did not clue in to the fact that the girls had just broken into the prioress' office, but only thought that they were simply out on a stroll to get a snack from the kitchen. As such, Renata was able to retain her keepsake and the girls were not punished quite so severely.

Justine ended her note by saying that she was rueful that _Monsieur_ Émile and _Madame_ Éponine had had to leave. Yes, to Éponine's surprise, the girl made a point of saying her apologies to _both_ Enjolras and herself. She wrote that she was glad to hear that _Madame_ Morel had found another accommodation nearby. She promised that she would find a way to continue visiting them somehow, vowing that this was not the end of their relationship…

Éponine could not help but feel rather apprehensive about Justine's words. It was one thing to sneak around within the grounds at night, it was quite another to leave the convent to see a man… Well, a man and his supposed wife, but she did not think that the prioress would see the distinction if Justine was caught again…

Nevertheless, Éponine could not deny feeling glad that they were staying close by, as she still wished to help Gabrielle somehow… She and Enjolras had talked about their options as soon as they were given their marching orders by the prioress. It was too early for them to move elsewhere, as Enjolras still had his cast on and they had not yet acquired new identity papers from wherever _Monsieur _Valjean got his. And indeed, for Enjolras, the argument for staying in the vicinity was above all Jean Valjean himself.

After failing to convince the prioress to allow the young couple to stay, the old man had opted to remain in _Petit-Picpus_. He still believed that the convent was the most ideal place for him to avoid detection and therefore ensure that Cosette's future was secure. Enjolras had tried persuading him to come along with them, as he was worried about the man's deteriorating health and felt that their frequent chats had had the beneficial effect of rejuvenating him somewhat. Regardless, it seemed that Jean Valjean was adamant about keeping the promise that he'd made to himself, to remain in this convent until the end of his life.

This, above all, was what Enjolras lamented the most about his expulsion from the convent. He would certainly not miss being confined to his room at all hours and having barely any visitors, but he would miss his talks with Jean Valjean. There was still so much about the man's life that he yearned to hear. As he was expressly told not to return to the convent, Enjolras had implored Valjean to consider visiting him on the outside. He would find a lodging nearby, he said, so that the other man did not have to leave the sanctuary of the convent for very long. Otherwise, Enjolras would write him some letters and they could continue their talks that way.

Speaking of which, Enjolras remembered to send some notes to Combeferre and Joly advising them of the predicament. He was rather light on the details as to _why_ they were ousted from the convent and told them that he and Éponine had found an accommodation nearby and that they would try to keep a low profile.

The last comment was meant specifically for Combeferre, as he could just imagine the frown that would appear on his best friend's face at the news that Enjolras was leaving the shelter of the convent at such an inopportune timing, given his father's pending arrival in Paris. Nevertheless, this could not be helped now and Enjolras just hoped that his friends could visit him more frequently in his new dwelling. He had missed their presence and there was much that he wished to discuss with them.

Éponine and Enjolras did not have much possession to begin with, so it did not take them long to pack everything up into their respective trunks. Still, once the room was practically bare, Éponine found herself feeling sentimental as she she took a look around. It was a threadbare chamber, but this was where her romance with Enjolras started after all. Who would have guessed the she and he would progress their relationship to this state in a convent, out of all places? Life sure took a strange turn sometimes, thought Éponine.

The prioress had requested that they leave in the middle of the day to ensure that the pupils were all in class at the time, but what ended up happening was that some of the older girls went to the windows anyway, against the strict admonitions of their teachers, to catch sight of the two visitors departing. Justine and Renata had described this _Monsieur_ Émile as 'angelically handsome' and the schoolgirls could not miss the opportunity to see for themselves.

Éponine indeed did not fail to notice a number of girls watching her and Enjolras through the windows of their classrooms as the pair traversed the convent grounds towards the gate. The Morels and Jean Valjean were helping them with their luggage. The prioress had hoped that they would make their way swiftly, but Enjolras was slowed down by his crutch. Éponine walked alongside him, ready to assist if he so required. As a result, the schoolgirls had sufficient time to survey the couple. And indeed, every one of them thought that Justine and Renata were not exaggerating after all when they described the Monsieur's appearance. He was possibly the most beautiful man the girls had seen in their lives.

"Don't look now, Enjolras, but you are about to set some girls' hearts aflutter and then break them all in the one go," said Éponine in a low voice.

"What?" he asked distractedly.

Éponine pointed at the direction of the classroom windows discreetly, "You are about to fall into those girls' sight as you are leaving this compound, never to be seen by them again."

Enjolras resisted the urge to roll his eyes, "Oh. Well, I am sure they will get over it."

"Not _Mademoiselle_ Justine, I do not think," she replied under her breath. She spotted Justine and Gabrielle among the many faces watching them and stopped herself from giving them a wave. She directed a covert smile at them instead, as she could not let the others clue in to the fact that she had known the two girls for a while.

Before she left, she had told Gabrielle that she would find a way to still see her. The prioress might not be too thrilled about letting Éponine into the convent, but she would still be allowed to enter under the guise of visiting her husband's grandfather. Well, it would not be a guise, actually, as Enjolras had insisted that the two of them keep reaching out to Jean Valjean. So Éponine had told Gabrielle not to fret, that this was not goodbye between them. However, if there was something urgent that the girl needed to say to her, then please send her a note. She was certain that _Madame_ Morel could get it to her, as they were going to be staying above her son-in-law's shop.

And indeed, Éponine and Enjolras were moving into the top floor of the _Rimbaud_ bakery. _Monsieur_ Rimbaud was the local baker who was married to _Madame_ Morel's daughter, Manon. The Rimbaud couple, their three children, and Manon's brother lived on the second and third floors of the building, which left the top floor unoccupied. Enjolras was to find, to his utmost disappointment, that being out of the convent did not mean that he would be able to go outside more freely, because first of all, Combeferre would not like it, and second of all, the trek up and down four flights of stairs was too massive a feat to be attempted regularly using a crutch.

He was understandably breathless when they arrived at their new place. The top floor was almost like an attic for the whole structure and so had narrower corridors and smaller overall living area than the previous levels. Nevertheless, the flat was still suitably bigger than their accommodation at the convent. They entered to a little sitting room containing a comfortable-looking couch. This led off to what could be a dining area, with a small table, several chairs, and a window overlooking the alleyway behind the bakery. There was no kitchen, but Éponine was told that she could use the one belonging to the bakery on the ground floor, anytime after the Rimbauds had finished baking the day's bread. From the sitting room, there was a narrow corridor that led to the bedroom, which was furnished with a larger and more comfortable-looking bed than they'd had for the past several months, a table that they could use as a desk, and even a simple-looking wardrobe. There was also a fireplace, though Éponine and Enjolras expected to leave before the change in weather would necessitate the use of it. The windows in the living room and bedroom looked out to the streets in front of the bakery, so the view was not bad, which Éponine thought was somewhat of a relief, as she noticed that Enjolras was looking rather disheartened by the fact that he would not be able to go outside as easily, given his crutch.

_Messieurs_ Morel and Rimbaud had assisted the pair with getting their things up the stairs, so once it was all done and they were left to themselves again, Éponine turned to Enjolras with a bright smile, "What do you think, Enjolras? Not so bad, is it? It looks better than the place that Marius used to live."

Enjolras, who was still feeling worn out and achy from the trip up the stairs, looked up at her from where he sat on the couch. He had not missed Éponine bringing up Marius' name in an almost light tone. He had not noticed it until now, but she had not mentioned Pontmercy for a while now. It would not have bothered him in the past, but well, obviously, things were different between them now. He answered her with a tone that made him sound more weary than he felt, "Yes, I suppose so."

"Would you like some water or something?"

"No, I just need a moment to catch my breath."

Éponine went to sit next to him on the couch, "I am sorry for all the stairs. Next time, we shall find a place that has easier access."

Enjolras looked up at her in a surprise. She mentioned 'next time' in the same easy tone that she had said Marius' name. He finally replied, "It is fine. I suppose this is only temporary anyway."

"Yes, until your leg heals?" She left the question open-ended. There were _several_ things waiting until he was back on his own two feet. "How does the other one feel though?"

And then before he could reply, she placed her hand on his left thigh, massaging it slightly.

"Éponine..."

"It can't feel too good after climbing up all those steps. Besides, isn't this the treatment that _Monsieur_ Combeferre wanted you to maintain? You need to look after your left leg as much as your right, Enjolras."

He covered her hand with his, stilling her movement, "Yes, but when you do it, I am afraid the effects will be different to the ones intended."

She giggled a little at that and removed her hand. _Not so clueless after all, was he?_ So instead, she brought both of her palms to his face and pulled him closer for a kiss. He responded quite readily. Éponine made a point to keep her touch decent, but it was not to be a brief interlude between them anyway. Enjolras kept one hand in the back of her neck to keep her from moving away as easily. When they finally broke apart, she nuzzled his nose and said with mirth in her voice, "I thought I was taking a pity on you by holding myself back, but it seems that you'd like to indulge yourself after all."

"I cannot help myself, can I?"

"I like you this way," she chuckled. "Why don't you rest for a while then? I will do some unpacking and maybe fix us something to eat afterwards."

"Thank you, Éponine," he looked up at her with a smile. She had stood up but he was still holding on to her hand.

She nodded and replied with a smile of her own.

* * *

Later on that night, when they had settled in and the meals had been eaten and the trunks had been unloaded, Éponine watched Enjolras writing earnestly by the fading light on the desk.

"What are you scribbling there? It is quite late. Do you not want to sleep yet?" asked Éponine.

Enjolras barely looked up from his page, "I am just noting down what _Monsieur _Valjean said in our last meeting."

"Oh. Is there much to go?"

"No, not quite." But then he paused and added after a moment, "I worry about him, Éponine."

"I am sure he will be fine. His coloring is much better lately. But I will check up on him and make sure I engage him in conversation the next time I go to the convent."

Enjolras nodded, "I think his better state _does_ have something to do with the time that I have spent with him, so, yes, I think it will be good if you can keep him company the next time you visit. I know that he has resigned himself to a life of solitude initially, but I cannot help but feel that our discussions have been sustaining him lately."

"Yes, I think the talks have been good for the both of you."

"It is not just that. I feel... _responsible_ for him. Do you know that he saved my life?"

Éponine did not know, so he told her what had happened that night at the barricade, including how Jean Valjean had rescued Marius as well, though the latter was not aware of it.

"It disturbs me that Pontmercy is none the wiser. I am quite astounded that he would let his future father-in-law depart as he did, having heard the man's miserable past, but I do not think that Marius would let him persist on his own in the convent had he realized that Jean Valjean is the reason that he breathes still and is free to marry his beloved Cosette."

"I am sure Marius has his reasons…" Éponine started slowly. "I do not quite know what was discussed between him and _Monsieur_ Valjean before they parted, but perhaps they made an agreement for it to be this way? I have never known Marius to be uncaring."

Enjolras suppressed a feeling of... _displeasure_ at hearing Éponine say that about Pontmercy. He focused his thoughts instead on the facts, which nevertheless prompted him to relent, "Well Jean Valjean did request for Marius to let him leave and to keep Cosette in the dark. I had also promised that I would not impart what I know to Marius and Cosette, but I must admit that I am tempted."

"Enjolras, you cannot do that. You gave the man your word. You should respect his decision. And from what you said, that seems to be precisely what Marius is doing as well, so we will just have to let this be."

There was that feeling of annoyance again, tugging at him, fraying at his nerve a little bit, upon hearing her mention Marius...

No, he was not going to be this person, he thought. So he said instead, "Does it not seem unfair though? Pontmercy would not be in his present state of happiness had it been for Jean Valjean, yet here is the man, languishing on his own, wasting away with no one but me, and perhaps you as well, to listen to the story of his life. If _Mademoiselle_ Cosette somehow finds out about it, then I am certain that she will ask Marius to collect her father and ensures that he is cared for..."

"Enjolras, I would once again advise you against breaking your promise to the man. It is perhaps the reason he confided to you in the first place, expecting you to keep what he said to yourself. And he must have his reasons for not telling Marius the truth about what happened that night at the barricade. He must have known that if he did, Marius would not have let him go. So you see, this indicates that he is quite determined to disappear from Cosette and Marius' lives."

Enjolras had tried to be rational, he really did, but hearing Éponine defend Pontmercy in such a way must have bothered him much more than he had realized, because he said the following words in a harsher tone than he had wanted to hear from himself, "Well, perhaps you and Pontmercy are fine with putting your word above all else, even if an old man is abandoned as a result — an old man to whom Marius owes his life, mind you, in more ways than he could have understood. But I am more concerned with what is _fair_, Éponine. I do not think it fair that a man as selfless as Jean Valjean, who has devoted his life to helping others, who continually sacrificed his own happiness for their own, is wasting away his remaining days by himself."

Éponine was quite taken aback by what he said, "Are you angry at me, Enjolras? I am simply advising you to keep to your word. How can you fault me for that?"

"It just seems that you fail to see what the right thing to do is here. Maybe it is because Marius is involved. He can seem to do no wrong in your eyes."

Éponine was starting to feel annoyed herself, "Is this what this is about? Do you have a problem with me agreeing with Marius _because_ it is Marius? What have you got against him?"

If Enjolras was thinking more clearly, he would have realized that he had never had any particularly serious issue with Marius. Yes, they had never fully agreed on politics, but he had not felt any particular distaste for the man the last time he saw him. He had let him go, let him walk away from any further involvement in the revolutionary club, without any ill feeling on his part. And yet here he was now, somehow wanting to lash out against Pontmercy, "I have nothing against him. I just do not respect how he treats his future father-in-law. I do not see how you can agree with him, other than perhaps you simply wish to agree with whatever Marius says and does."

Éponine felt her temper flaring, "Excuse me?! If there is one thing you should know about me by now, Enjolras, is that my mind is my own. I do not defend Marius' actions just so I can agree with him. I am simply thinking of what _Monsieur_ Valjean wants. It is his life after all that we are debating. Do you not think that he has a right to decide for himself how to spend the end of his life? If he wishes to be by himself, with the full knowledge that his beloved daughter is safe with the man she loves, then we must respect it. It is not our business to decide what is best for him. You seem to be blinded by your concern for _Monsieur_ Valjean, which is admirable in itself, but also by whatever issue you appear to have with Marius, which you need to settle with _him_ and not use his father-in-law as an excuse to scorn his actions."

Enjolras was quiet for a while, seemingly seething somewhat over her words. "I do not have an issue with Marius," he finally said stubbornly, in a tone that indicated that he clearly meant otherwise.

Éponine wanted to grit her teeth in frustration, but then, seeing the expression on his face, it all suddenly came together for her. Could it really be... ?

She calmed herself down and asked the following in as delicate a tone as she could muster, "Are you possibly... _jealous _of Marius, Enjolras? Is this what this is all about? Do you think I might still have feelings for him?"

Enjolras wished he could deny it. This… _sensation_ was foreign to him. All his life, he always had more of... _everything_ than anyone else around him and he had also been quite successful at everything he had set out to do, so he had never had any cause to be jealous of anyone. He felt that the feeling was beneath him even.

And yet here he was... With Éponine looking at him like that, probing his face, seemingly able to see right through him, exposing the deep, unacknowledged secret that perhaps he really _was_ jealous of Pontmercy, because of his history with Éponine, because he got to have her heart first and possibly always would...

Because the two of them had done well by being honest with each other, he was not about to break the trend, regardless of how he might not like her answer. He spoke with an almost resigned tone, "Perhaps I am. Can you blame me? You were quite in love with him. Are you still...?"

Upon being confronted with the question directly, Éponine had had to take some time to contemplate it. The amazing thing was, she had actually not been thinking about Marius for some time now. And she was able to say his name without the ache that she used to feel. Yet there _was_ this little part of her that still felt a certain _fondness_ at the thought of Marius. It was almost out of habit.

Regardless, when she contrasted it to what she felt and thought of Enjolras, she remarkably found that the feeling paled in comparison.

She must have been thinking about it for too long, because when she looked up to give her answer, he had a stormy expression on his face and was half-turning back towards the desk. She started tentatively, "Since you have spoken to me plainly, I will be honest with you as well, Enjolras, and say that I think there is a little part of me that will always care a little for Marius."

He had his back to her now. Clearly, he did not wish for her to go on, but she persisted, "However, do you know that I have not thought about him at all until today? I think that is quite telling, don't you? Instead, I find my thoughts occupied with _you_."

He looked up a bit, so she continued on with a smile, "Mind you, I do not think about you every minute of every day, but when something interesting happens to me, whether it be a silly conversation that I have with someone while I'm not with you or it is a revelation which comes upon me while I am reading, for example, I think of you. I want to share it with you. I feel no need to speak to Marius in the same way."

She approached him from behind and slid her arms down his shoulders. "And when something bothers me, if I cannot sleep or I feel upset by something, I wish to unload my troubles onto you, because I know that you listen and you do not judge and you give excellent advice. I do not believe I actually know Marius well enough to do that with him."

She found to her relief that he leaned back towards her, placing one hand on her arm as he listened to her words, "And when I think about where I want to be in the next several months, I see myself with you. Marius no longer features when I imagine my future."

She took one hand off his shoulder to caress his hair. He seemed to really like that. She bent down slightly so that her lips were near his ear, "In fact, Marius does not feature in my dreams anymore. Now, mind you, I do not always remember them and I cannot control the content, so do not keep me to this, but I seem to dream constantly of you lately."

She circled her arms around his neck, bringing him closer against her, "And I definitely do not think about doing _this_ with Marius. Only you." She kissed him from behind on his hair and then on his temple. But she did not stop there. Her lips continued to move down his face until they found the side of his mouth.

He only needed to turn his head slightly to capture her lips. Éponine moaned a little at the contact. They continued kissing each other quite fervently, their lips barely breaking contact. After a while though, her position was becoming slightly awkward, so Enjolras pulled her by the hand and onto his lap.

"What about your leg?"

"I don't care," he said, as his hand traveled up her jawline and pulled her close again. Her placating words must have gotten through to him, because he was kissing her passionately, as if he intended to bruise her lips. And his hands wandered more daringly than before, underneath the collar of her nightshirt, tracing her collarbone, or down the side of her body, following the curve, and even up her leg, though it stopped just above her knee.

When they broke apart, they were both breathless and Éponine felt her heart beating very fast, "I think it is quite obvious that I _yearn_ for you very much, Enjolras. Are you sure you want to wait until your leg is fully healed? That could take a while, even after the cast has come off."

Enjolras could barely think, his blood was pulsing loudly in his ears, if such a thing was possible. He was very _tempted_…

But when he thought about how unsettled he was by the simple thought of Marius, he was afraid that if he did this with her now, he would lose himself entirely to her.

No, ironically it was not Éponine who had to be careful about making Enjolras the center of her world. It was Enjolras instead, who grew worried that he would do that to her if he submitted himself now, when he was still unsure of all these different feelings that he was experiencing for the first time. He did not think it would be healthy if he attached himself so completely to her.

He was not sure of how to convey this to her though, so he just looked at her with a soft smile and asked her to be patient with him.

Thankfully, she just smiled back and said, "Then I better get off this leg of yours. I do not wish to risk further injury after all and prolong its healing."

When she had gotten up, she looked back on him again with an amused expression, "Do you realize that we just had our first fight?"

"Did we? I suppose that you are right."

"Yes, and our first… _conciliatory embrace_. I am told that this is the best part after a couple has fought. What do you think?"

Enjolras had had to chuckle, "I cannot deny it. Perhaps it is the reason why many lovers pick fights with each other." It suddenly occurred to him that this was likely why some of his friends used to complain about women who infuriated them and yet kept on seeing them. He had not understood it then.

"You are very perceptive, aren't you?" replied Éponine. Her expression turned more serious though and she came close to him again with her arms around his neck. She looked at him earnestly, "You understand now, don't you, that you have no reason to be jealous of Marius?"

He gave her a nod and caressed her back in a reassuring manner, "Yes, I think that you have convinced me. I am sorry I overreacted. I realized that I was behaving irrationally, but I could not control what I was feeling. I really do trust you, Éponine."

"I am glad," she replied with a soft smile. "As to _Monsieur_ Valjean, we will still be nearby, at least for a while, so we shall try to keep reaching out to him. I will attempt to convince him to visit you here. And when the time comes that we have to leave… Well, if you still feel unsettled about abandoning him, then we can talk again about whether or not we should tell Cosette and Marius. How does that sound?"

"That sounds like a very good solution, actually."

"Excellent. Now let us go to bed. You look weary."

"Yes, I have not had much luck with sleeping lately."

Something suddenly occurred to Éponine, "Then we can try something new. Come."

She led him to the bed and let him lie like he always did, facing towards the ceiling. She got in to the other side in a reclining position, but not completely lying down, and scooted herself close to his head, "Since you have been serving as my pillow, I think it is time that I return the favor. Lie your head here on my stomach."

He looked at her unconvincingly, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, here I will help you."

His right leg was still anchoring him to the his side of the bed, but his upper body and left leg were able to be angled towards her. He ended up with his head on her stomach, the top of his head against the swells of her breasts, his left arm folded against her side and his right arm draped across her hips in an almost possessive hold.

"See, is this not comfortable?"

He could not deny that it was. He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent, feeling sleepy already.

"Now, since you are having trouble sleeping, I shall read to you. Not from one of your serious books, mind you, because we do not need your mind thinking so much, but from one of mine."

She started reading from _Éponine et Sabinus_, he thought, but he could not quite listen to her words, as he felt himself dozing off almost immediately. Éponine was also running her fingers through his hair and massaging his scalp lightly. The effect of it all, combined with her voice, was highly relaxing.

Éponine had barely gotten through two pages before she realized that Enjolras had fallen asleep. She put her book away quietly and doused the lamp. Before she herself went to sleep, she brought two fingers to her lips and pressed them softly to his cheek, "Sleep well, Enjolras."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** There we go, É/E's first fight! It figures that it would be over Marius, doesn't it? I don't think Enjolras the marble statue would have known what jealousy is, but, well, he is a little different now, isn't he, now that he's "cracked" by Éponine? It is just one more foreign feeling that he gets to experience now that he's attached to a girl.

I'm going to miss _Petit-Picpus_! But I had planned for them to leave at some point.

I had to introduce a few more original characters, which you know I don't like doing, but it had to be done. I am terrible at naming them, so I just picked whatever names occurred to me. However, I have since discovered that Rimbaud is the name of a poet whom Victor Hugo described as "an infant Shakespeare" and Renata is a character from Gabriel Garcia Marquez' _One Hundred Years in Solitude_, which is among my top most favorite books. I don't know where the names Justine or Gabrielle came from, honestly. They just popped in my head.

Anyway, what do you think? Please leave me a review or PM to let me know what you think (or you can visit me on tumblr at caderyn tumblr com). Otherwise, follow/fave if you like the story. Thank you!


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer:** _Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes: **This chapter is dedicated to all the good folks who've inspired and been so kind to me on tumblr. You know who you are! I've made a tumblr post separately for all of you :-). This chapter would not have been here (or at least not this soon) if it were not for you guys. Thank you.

* * *

**Chapter 26**

To show their gratitude to _Madame_ Morel and _Monsieur_ Rimbaud for finding them accommodation at such short notice, Éponine and Enjolras agreed to accept _Madame_ Morel's request from a while back to teach her son and grandson to read and write.

Éponine had convinced Enjolras to do it, saying that it was something to occupy his days and a way he might see if _teaching_ would be something he'd like to explore for himself one day. Enjolras did not need much persuasion to take on the tutoring, really, as he did agree with Éponine that this was one thing he could do in his current circumstance, but he still doubted whether going into the education field was truly his calling.

Éponine certainly shared her opinion with Combeferre in this regard though, as Enjolras recalled many discussions with his closest friend, whereby the latter argued for the value of changing society _progressively_ through education. It was particularly interesting that Éponine had come to the same conclusions as Combeferre when, to Enjolras' knowledge, the two had never exchanged their views with each other. Combeferre would certainly be happy to hear that Éponine was attempting to nudge him towards this direction. However, despite the prompting from the two people with whom he was inarguably the closest and whose input he valued above all others, Enjolras still thought that being a teacher was… _too mild_ of an occupation for him. He did not doubt that it was a valuable profession, but he still insisted that he would like to contribute and change society in more active and _bolder_ ways.

Nevertheless, for the moment, he was willing to accept the fate of a tutor, so as such, on the second afternoon in their new dwelling, Enjolras and Éponine received the two boys for an introductory visit.

_Madame_ Morel's son was called Jacques. He was twenty years old and worked as a mason, which showed in his physique, as he was tall with strong arms, sun-darkened skin, and red hair. However, despite the sturdy appearance, one immediately got the impression, upon speaking to him, that he was a rather gentle and even bashful person. He was extremely polite, soft-spoken, and rather avoided making eye contact with Éponine.

The little boy, _Madame_ Morel's grandson, Théo, was a livelier personality. He had the look of his father, _Monsieur_ Rimbaud, who was pale with blond hair and brown eyes, but certainly not his temperament, as the baker was a man of a few words, while his son chattered constantly and seemingly had boundless energy. Upon meeting him, Enjolras and Éponine understood why Manon, the boy's mother, was keen to have someone take him off her hands, at least for a few hours a day, as he was an extremely active child, both physically and mentally. Even at six years old, he was curious about so many things, immediately asking Enjolras and Éponine plenty of questions about _their_ lives, such as why did the _Monsieur_ have that thing on his leg? Why couldn't he walk? What happened to him? Why did the _Madame_ look so young? How old was she? Did the _Monsieur_ and _Madame_ have any children? Why not? He thought that that came with being married...

Jacques, who was the only one accompanying the boy, apologized to the couple and told his nephew not to ask so many questions because it was not polite. Éponine glanced at Enjolras, wondering how he would take being left alone with this talkative child for a whole morning. If he thought that _she_ was chattering, she had nothing on this boy…

And indeed, the arrangement was that Manon, the boy's mother, would drop off Théo in the couple's apartment early in the morning, after which she would help her husband with the baking while also looking after her two younger children. Théo would spend the morning with Enjolras — and perhaps also Éponine, if she was not too busy running errands — learning how to read and write. As most of the day's bread would have finished baking by midday, Manon would come by then to collect Théo. Jacques, meanwhile, would arrive for his tutoring in the evening after he had finished work. This way, Enjolras still had a whole afternoon free to do other activities, including his continued discussions and other _quality time_ with Éponine.

While Enjolras saw no particular issue with teaching Jacques, he was not accustomed to being around children, so he was initially quite wary about looking after Théo, especially if Éponine was not going to be around as well. However, after meeting the boy, he found himself actually liking the energy and the curiosity that the child was showing. It reminded him a little of himself when he was younger… Additionally, he decided to consider the whole exercise as a unique experiment and opportunity to mold someone from a very early age, possibly following the ideas laid down by Rousseau in _Émile_.

So it was, the following morning Enjolras sat down with the boy. Éponine stayed for a little bit, to ensure that Enjolras was comfortable with the situation and left only when the two got settled. She was not particularly adept with children either, but she at least had had more experience with them, given her brother and the other street urchins who used to surround them. Upon observing Enjolras with Théo, however, she felt particularly amused to see that Enjolras did not vary his tone much in speaking to the child. He still answered the boy's questions in the same direct manner as he would anyone else's, though he _did_ make a conscious effort to keep his vocabulary simple.

And then...

Before she could stop herself, Éponine wondered whether this was how he was going to be when one day he became a father, when _they _had a child together...

Shaking off this errant thought, which, if it were to happen at all, would surely be quite far in their future, Éponine decided to leave them to it. Before departing, she gave Enjolras an earnest "good luck" and a quick kiss, which the boy did not really notice as he was preoccupied with paging through the new books in his hands.

Enjolras opted to use the table in the dining room, because the desk in the bedroom faced the front of the bakery and he did not want the boy to be distracted by the view of the bustling street below. They were following learning books that he had asked Jacques to purchase for both himself and his nephew the day before. Enjolras was initially unsure of how to begin, as he did not remember a time when he _could not_ read and write. He supposed he should start with the basic though, so he introduced Théo to the alphabet. He got him to recite the letters one by one, sounding out the pronunciation, and then showed him how each was written.

As he sat there with the boy, Enjolras could not help thinking that this was a job to which Jehan or Courfeyrac would have been better suited. Jehan had a beautiful penmanship and a way with words, not to mention a certain gentle and patient temperament that would have endeared him to children. Courfeyrac, meanwhile, would have made learning tremendously fun with his enthusiasm and playful personality.

Sadly, though, his friends would never have the opportunity to pursue any career… So, in tribute to their memories, Enjolras promised himself that he would try to channel Jehan's patience and Courfeyrac's… well, not so much _playfulness_, as he did not think that he would ever have it in him to be so, but he would certainly try to think of more _exciting_ ways to get the boy to learn.

He showed Théo the proper way to hold a pen and asked him to write down those letters he just pronounced. He immediately noticed the boy struggling quite a bit, his hand making squiggly lines on the paper.

"Do I have to hold it _exactly_ like you, _Monsieur_ Émile? Can I not use my other hand?"

Enjolras had asked Théo to copy him precisely. It had not occurred to him that the boy might be _gaucher_. "Of course. Would you be more comfortable that way?"

"I think so." He tried again using his left hand and there was a noticeable improvement straight away. "Oh, but now I have this black stuff on my hand," he said a moment later, his little face scrunching up in a frown. He showed Enjolras the ink smudges on the side of his small palm.

Enjolras got a rag and used it to wipe the boy's hand clean. "Try holding your pen like this," he showed him with his own pen. "It will be a bit harder for you, because you are left-handed, but it is not a bad thing. My wife, _Madame_ Éponine, is also _gauchère_ and this is how she manages to write without getting so much ink on her."

"So she is like me, but you are not like me… Why is that?"

"I do not know. Some people are just born left-handed."

The boy was looking at him with a puzzled expression, "Left-handed?"

Enjolras then realized that the boy did not yet understand the concept of right and left, so he tried to explain it to him.

"So if people use their _right_ hand to write, they are _right_-handed?"

"Yes, but not just to write. If they are right-handed, they use their right hand to do mostly everything and their left hand only as support. If they are left-handed, it is the opposite."

Théo nodded, "I like using my left hand more, so I am left-handed."

"Yes, there are not many like you or _Madame_ Éponine, as most people are right-handed, but it does not mean that you are odd or different. It does not matter much, I think, whether one is right or left-handed."

"But if there are not many left-handed people, am I _special_ then? And _Madame_ Éponine? Is that why you married her, _Monsieur_? Because she is left-handed and _special_? I do not know if my _maman_ and _papa_ are right or left-handed, but I will ask them. Can you _only_ marry someone who is not like you, _Monsieur_?"

Enjolras had to chuckle a little, "No, anyone can marry anyone they like, right or left-handed. And no, I did not marry _Madame_ Éponine because she is left-handed, though she is definitely _special_."

"And I am too?"

"Yes, I suppose you are, but you will be even more special when you can write well using this left hand of yours. Now let us go back to your lesson."

"Why do I need to be able to write anyway, _Monsieur_? And to read? My _maman_ cannot and she is a good _maman_."

Enjolras had to think about it for a bit, for a way to convey it that would not be lost on the child. He finally said, "It is important because, well, how do you know things now, Théo? What do you do if you want to know something?"

"I ask someone, _Monsieur_."

"Yes, I notice that you rather like asking questions… Asking someone is good way to learn something, but it is not the _only_ way. There are things that you _can_ know, Théo, that other people have _written down_. Right now, when you want to _know_ something, you can only ask someone, but once you can read, you can also know something that are written down."

"Sometimes when I ask too many questions, _maman_ tells me to be quiet. So if I can read… I can find out what I want to know from reading and maybe not ask her so much?"

"Yes. And then after you've read something, you will know things that you may want to _tell_ to other people. If they are busy or they are not around, you can _write _whatever you want to say and get them to read it later."

"Oh, so when I can read and write… I can be more quiet like what my _maman_ and _papa _want."

"Yes. If you cannot read and write, the only way you can know things is by talking and listening to people all the time, which I think you are already doing a lot. Being able to read and write is a _quieter_ way to know things."

"Is it that important to _know_ things?"

"Well, _you_ certainly ask a lot of questions. You must think it important to know things."

The boy was quiet for a bit, scrunching his face up in concentration. It did not take long for his eyes to light up with comprehension, not unlike the one that graced Éponine's face so long ago in Combeferre's spare room when she first began her learning with him. Enjolras must admit that it was as rewarding for him now as it was then.

"So when I can read and write, I can write down my questions for you even when I am not here with you! And I can find out things from what other people wrote?"

"Yes, and when you find out the answers, you can _write_ them down and _read_ them later, so that you don't have to ask again when you forget."

The boy looked quite happy then and cheerfully went on with his attempt to scribble down the alphabet. Yes, Enjolras thought, this might turn out to be a rather interesting experiment after all. He had always appreciated people who were inquisitive, so he had certainly favored this boy's natural curiosity.

He only hoped that one day, when he had a child — and Éponine popped in his mind before he could stop himself — he would have one who was as curious about the world and as willing to learn as this child.

The thought threw him a little, as he had never before thought of himself as a father. The future that he had before envisioned for himself always resembled one belonging to a glorious warrior, who would bravely fight for the plight for the common people, but who might not live long enough to start a family of his own. It never bothered him before, this lack of longevity, but he must admit that now… he would rather hope that his life would not be cut so short. There was still so much that he wanted to live through and… yes, he thought that he would want to share them with Éponine, _including_ the possibility that they might have children together. Oddly, the thought did not worry him, as he expected it would, given the many uncertainties in their circumstances, but it only made him feel… _happy_.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I originally planned for this chapter to be longer, but I promised myself that I would start writing shorter chapters. The last one absolutely exhausted me, both physically and mentally, and I was a tiny bit disappointed by the lower number of reviews. There was also something going on in my life that I could not sleep for nearly a week and this story contributed to it. I considered quitting this fic for a while, but then I mentioned this on my tumblr and got so much love, appreciation, and encouragement from fellow tumblr users to continue. So I did, though this chapter is shorter than I wanted. This scene in my head took maybe three paragraphs, but it ended up being 2,000 words long.

I know, I know, more original characters and barely any E/É interaction, I hope you're not too disappointed! But trust me, Jacques and Théo have a purpose. I never thought I'd have Enjolras interacting with a child, but it amused me as I wrote it. I think it's important to have him interacting with those facets of society, which are outside his comfort zone, namely women (Justine and Gabrielle) and now children. Plus, it's good to prompt him to start thinking about a future with Éponine, especially one involving kids... I myself am not what you might call a 'child-friendly' person. Most of the time, I barely know how to speak to a a child. But last year, I met one whom I absolutely adored. He's perhaps the only kid I wouldn't mind babysitting. He's just very curious and in a genuine way, so Théo is based on him, though I took a guess regarding the speech and mentality of a six year-old (I do remember that the concept of right and left is not something that is immediately grasped by a kid).

Jacques is named after all the revolutionaries in _A Tale of Two Cities_, as well as Eddie Redmayne's character in _The Pillars of the Earth_, who's a red-head mason named Jack (ha ha). You shall see in future chapters why this is so.

I promise myself that I will not abandon this story, because I'm determined to finish a story for once, but I need all the encouragement I could get, so please review if you could. Otherwise, follow and favorite. I can tell you that the next chapter will feature the return of two of E/É's beloved friends :-).


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer:** _Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes:** WOW. Thank you so much for the words of encouragement/reviews! It warms my heart to hear that many of you like really this fic and want me to continue! I think I've replied to every one of you, except ones that aren't registered or have their PM function turned off. This chapter is dedicated to every one of you! It is another shorter one for me, but hopefully it is not too disappointing (see the Author's Notes at the bottom).

* * *

**Chapter 27**

Enjolras' first lesson with Jacques in the evening also went rather well, though he found the man to be a quieter student than his nephew. He did not say why he wanted to learn to read and write _now_, when his job as a mason did not quite require him to have the knowledge, but Enjolras did not wish to pry, so he did not ask. Jacques kept his head down and gave Enjolras his full concentration, so he had no cause for complaint. In fact, Enjolras was rather grateful for the contrast between his two pupils, as he did not think that he could entertain a mind as curious as Théo's twice a day.

It was the afternoon after his second lesson with the boy. He and Éponine had had luncheon and were planning on doing some reading together, to continue with her learning. However, they ended up disagreeing on a passage from the material, which turned into an argument, which turned into a minor shouting match, then one thing led to another…

And, well, they soon found themselves wrapped up in each other, Éponine once again sitting on Enjolras' lap, kissing him furiously, biting into his bottom lip a bit, her arms hanging loosely around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling at it a little, reminding him that she was still rather frustrated with him. _This_ was why one did not get romantically involved with one's own student, Enjolras thought. He could not even remember what they were disputing.

"Éponine, you need to study."

"You were the one who pulled me."

It gave Enjolras pause. She had him there. "Well, I needed to stop you from going on with your nonsensical arguments."

Éponine studied him with mischief in her eyes, "You know, Enjolras… If I did not know better, I would say that you are trying to rile me up deliberately because you like this… _placating _session that we are doing instead."

"You think you are so clever, Éponine." But he did not hesitate in capturing her lips again and then kissing her all around her face, enjoying the feel of her soft skin against his lips.

"You are lucky that I am not the type to stay angry for too long," she giggled, as the bristles on his face were tickling her. "Or else you will not find this whole experience very pleasant."

And Enjolras indeed remembered thinking that he quite liked how Éponine did not dwell on hurt feelings. It was perhaps the first thing that he genuinely liked about her, so he told her so.

"Yes, but I am not immune to bouts of sensitivity, so don't you go seeking to hurt my feelings deliberately," she replied, playfully tapping his cheek. "But speaking of sensitivity, as much as I enjoy this — what was that word you used? — _interlude_ of ours, I need to give you another shave, I think. I can feel my skin chafing a little from your stubble."

As Enjolras had quite liked the last time Éponine had given him a shave, he did not raise an objection. It did not take her long to prepare the equipment. He tried to keep still as she stood over him a moment later, slowly and carefully bringing the blade of a razor down on his soap-lathered cheek. He quite liked watching her being focused on her task while still freely chattering away.

She was telling him about what was happening with the schoolgirls. Over luncheon, they had talked about Éponine's visit to _Petit-Picpus_ earlier in the day, but Enjolras had been mostly interested in hearing about Jean Valjean, who still opted not to venture out of the convent but had accepted Enjolras' request to correspond with him via letters, to which the latter accepted with much relief. As such, Éponine had not had a chance to update Enjolras on the state of the pupils. Éponine did not see Gabrielle or Justine unfortunately, but she had managed to chat a little with _Madame_ Morel, as the latter walked with her back to the bakery (the _Madame_ was on her way to help Manon look after the children). _Madame_ Morel started off by telling Éponine that there was this certain _atmosphere_ in the boarding school...

After the couple had left, many of the girls had become even more curious about the visitors, most likely prompted by _Monsieur_ Émile's good looks, _Madame_ Morel thought. They could not believe that there had been a man as handsome as he living among them and they were not even aware of it. Justine and Gabrielle did their best to keep what they knew to themselves, but most of the girls were clever enough to go to _Madame_ Morel anyway, deducing that the latter would have had some interaction with the couple, while a few even dared approach _Monsieur_ Fauchelevent in the garden, boldly enquiring about his grandson. While the latter was not quite so responsive, _Madame_ Morel was admittedly rather forthcoming, telling all who had come wondering that _Monsieur_ Émile and his wife had moved to her son-in-law's bakery so that he could still be close to his grandfather. While the couple waited for his leg to heal, he was also tutoring _Madame_ Morel's son and grandson to read and write. _Monsieur_ Émile was not a teacher by trade, but was considering going into the profession, she said.

It was at this point that _Madame _Morel told Éponine that Justine and Gabrielle had eventually cracked and imparted their prior acquaintance with the couple to a small group of their most trusted and closest friends. They were holding secret gatherings in the dormitory, apparently, whereby the two girls shared with the others what they were learning from _Monsieur_ Émile and _Madame_ Éponine, even showing them the books that they were discreetly reading and telling them of the ideas that were contained within. There had not been any outright signs of _rebellion_ as a result of these sessions, but the _Madame_ thought that _something _was bound to happen soon…

Éponine was quite amazed when she heard about this development from _Madame_ Morel earlier and Enjolras felt no different now. He was rather exhilarated by the fact that a group of religious, adolescent schoolgirls were electing to independently learn about progressive ideas, despite their presumably conservative, _bourgeois_ or aristocratic background and their strict, traditional schooling. If that was not a sign that the times were changing…

"Look at you looking proud, Enjolras," Éponine said with a chuckle as she continued with her task. "It seems that you are so _inspirational_ that you are able to plant the seeds of revolution even when confined inside a convent! Actually… With that in mind, I suppose you _should_ feel proud of yourself!"

"Nothing has happened yet, but do you not find this exciting? These girls are taking the initiative to think and act for themselves."

"All thanks to you." Then she added with a smile, "And this handsome face of yours."

The handsome face of Enjolras noticeably frowned then and let out an exasperated sigh, "Does that really matter?"

"Maybe not to you, because you do not have to look at yourself all the time," she said with a chuckle. "But you must realize that you are _beautiful_, don't you, Enjolras?"

He frowned even further, "I rather think that what someone says and does are more important. These are _choices _that show who we are as a person after all, whereas our appearance is something we cannot help."

"Yes, but do not dismiss the importance of good looks. It is a strength you should not take for granted, Enjolras. You may not like it that those girls are interested in what you say because you are very handsome, but it does not change the fact that they _are_ listening to your words and are changed because of them. You are already so clever and such a good speaker. Think of your appearance as one more thing that gives you an edge in your mission to change and _revolutionize_ others."

Enjolras was still frowning though, "I would rather be considered for my words and actions alone though, Éponine."

"Well, the world does not work like that, Enjolras. And you have after all chosen a profession that puts you front and center in people's _sight_. I am simply saying that you are ideally suited to what you do because you are so handsome. I suspect your whole appearance and persona would be irresistible to any who would stop and listen and gaze upon you."

He was quiet for a while, a pensive look adorning his blessed face. Finally, he said quietly, "And you, Éponine? Is that also why you… _like_ me? Because of my appearance?"

Éponine stopped the movement of her hand mid-shave. She raised herself to her full height and looked down on him with an unamused expression, "Do you not think that if I am only interested in your looks, I would have been pining over you from so long ago? Your face has not changed after all."

"I cannot help but ask, Éponine, since you keep focusing on my physical appearance."

"I am not blind, Enjolras. Of course I am _attracted_ to how you look. Even now, when your face is half-covered in soap, I still think you look good and not at all ridiculous. But I am not shallow. I do not like you simply because you are beautiful. You are kind and caring and you appreciate my help and listen to me and treat me as an equal and you make me believe in myself, in my own possibilities— Do you want me to continue? Because you are looking rather red around your neck."

"No, no, I think that is sufficient." He could not help but feel his heart swelling up with joy though to hear what Éponine had said. He wanted to pull her closer and show her his appreciation…

But she had gone back to the shaving. "Trust you, Enjolras, to take issue with being liked for your lovely face. But I wonder…" And her expression suddenly turned cloudy, "If you take no notice of a person's appearance, then I suppose I should feel grateful that you… _truly_ like me for me? Because I know that I am no great beauty, at least not in the traditional sense."

Éponine hated feeling insecure about her appearance. It was an odd mix of sentiments, as her pride was telling her that, of course she was good enough to be with a handsome man like him, but at the same time, her realistic side could not ignore the fact that, truthfully, she was not as beautiful as him. _And_ he just admitted to not caring about how someone looks. So she really should be… _thankful_ that he was looking past her diminished appearance. For some reason though, she was not happy about it.

Enjolras noticed her appearing a bit sullen, so he placed a hand on hers, stilling her movement and forcing her to look at him, "It is true, Éponine, that I hardly consider a person's physicality when I form my opinion of them. And that is the case for you as well… But only initially, because I must admit that I am now also... _drawn_ to your physical features. Lest you call me shallow, I shall state that I very much admire your courage and strength and intelligence and extremely caring nature, but alongside all that, I also _like_ the way you look. I shall not point out individual bits, because _everything_ about you shows to me that you have lived a tough life and yet you persisted and chose to rise above it… And _that_ makes you _beautiful_." He gave her a soft, unguarded smile and continued in a quiet voice that did not nevertheless lack in intensity, "And I specifically like that my hand fits perfectly on your waist here, so easy for me to pull you in… I also like how your cheeks color and there's this light in your eyes just before I kiss you…"

Éponine stopped him with a palm on his chest, "I am going to get soap on my face."

"Do you really care?"

She only thought about it for a moment, "No, not quite."

They certainly were not getting any studying done this afternoon. Enjolras would not have envisioned putting himself in a situation where he would discover what soap tasted like, but well, he found that he did not mind so much when it was mixed in with the taste of Éponine…

It was right in the middle of this suds-accompanied embrace that the pair heard a knock on the door. They looked at each other in surprise, as they had not been expecting any visitors and Jacques was not due for his lesson until much later.

Enjolras used his sleeve to wipe the foam off her face and told her that he would finish shaving on his own. Éponine got up to see who was at the door.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **I know, I know, another cliffhanger! I'm really sorry, I know that I've promised to bring back two of E/É's friends in this chapter and I fully intended to do that, but then I wrote this and got stuck. I've been sitting on this for the last couple of days. The thing is, I'm gonna be out of town from Wednesday to Saturday, so I thought that, rather than wait for me to finish everything and only update in the weekend (maybe), I'd post this part first. I can tell you that I'm halfway through the next scenes, which do have the the two friends, so there _is_ a chance I'll upload Chapter 28 tomorrow anyway, before I go.

If I don't, then at least you'll have this chapter which is purely E/É interaction. Is anyone sick of their make-out sessions yet? Hope not! I admittedly have a thing for shaving scenes. I researched whether or not shaving foam would have been used in the 1830s and, as far as I can tell, they used soap.

On a semi-related note, because I get asked this quite a bit, I'll just let you know that I cannot write smut. It's just something I've never been able to do. However, with that said, this does not mean that E/É won't have sex eventually. I already have an idea on how I'll write it, so hopefully we'll get to that stage :-).

**Oopsmygeekishere**, here are the names of the books E/É have discussed/are learning from:

- Condorcet: _Sketch for a Historical Picture of the Progress of the Human Mind_.

- Rousseau: _Émile, or On Education _and _Julie, or the New Heloise_.

- Montesquieu: _Considerations on the Causes of the Greatness of the Romans and their Decline_.

I think that's it. I might have alluded to something Voltaire said, but I don't think I quoted a specific book. Oh, and there's also _Éponine et Sabinus_.

You guys already know how much I love feedback, so please do review if you could. I can't promise that I will have Chapter 28 by tomorrow, but who knows, maybe reviews will push me to put my head down and finish it quicker. See you soon (hopefully)!

Btw, guess what. I think this is now the longest E/É fic (at least in _Les Mis _Play section). Huzzah!


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer:** _Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras. Joly/Musichetta and Combeferre/Joly if you squint really hard. Also contains friendships between Éponine/Musichetta and Enjolras/Joly.

**Author's Notes:** Thank you so much for the reviews and all the new follows/faves! Sorry, I didn't get to finish this chapter before my time away, but I did manage to do some writing while lying down on the beach, all relaxed, which I'd recommend to anyone if you ever got the chance, haha. Anyway, enjoy and see if you are correct at guessing who's at the door ;-).

* * *

**Chapter 28**

As it turned out, Joly and Musichetta had chosen that afternoon to come calling. They had not sent a note ahead of time, so it was to be a surprise visit indeed for Enjolras and Éponine. Apparently, the young medical student and the _grisette_ were so excited to receive their friends' letters about the new dwelling that they decided to go and see them as soon as possible.

Joly greeted Éponine with a cheerful, "Éponine! How do you do? We apologize for arriving unannounced, but I have not seen you and Enjolras for far too long. I hope you are well. Where is the man?"

Éponine returned his smile and pointed to the direction of the bedroom, letting him find his own way. She turned to Musichetta with a big smile and gave her friend a hearty hug, "This is a nice surprise! It has been too long since I last saw you."

Musichetta gave her a knowing glance, "I hope we have not come at an inopportune time? I cannot help but notice that you are appearing rather flush, my dear. And you have soap underneath your ear there."

Éponine looked sheepish as she wiped away the leftover foam, "I was just helping Enjolras to shave."

Musichetta did not suppress her laugh, "Yes, I am sure you were!"

Éponine's replied with a mischievous grin, "Oh well, you know how it is."

"You have to tell me all about it! I have not heard from you for a while. Let us sit here and chat. It'll give the men an opportunity to catch up as well."

Musichetta led Éponine to the couch. While she certainly wanted to talk to her friend, she actually had another motive to keep the girl here. Joly had asked her earlier to give him some time alone with Enjolras, as he must update the latter regarding Combeferre's situation with Enjolras' father. According to Joly, Enjolras had not yet told Éponine of the man's presence in Paris, so he needed to be discreet. While Musichetta personally thought that Enjolras should promptly let Éponine know, she also realized that it was not her place to break the news, so she just hoped that Joly could persuade Enjolras to do so.

"So what has been happening?" Musichetta asked excitedly, her eyes shining brightly, "The last I heard, you and Enjolras have established your romantic status with each other. Did you know… I was so happy when I received your letter that I think I overtired Joly in bed that night."

Éponine could not hold back her laughter, "I am certain _Monsieur_ Joly did not object much!"

"No, no he did not," Musichetta chuckled. She too felt exhilarated by the memory of that night. She gave Éponine an appraising look, "But seeing as we are on the subject… I hope you do not mind me asking this. You mentioned that Enjolras had wanted to… wait before moving on with you _physically_. Has this changed?"

Éponine let out a sigh, "No, this has not changed, sadly. It is rather difficult, because I _want_ him so badly, Musichetta, but I think I understand his reasoning, though you might be able to shed a better light on it."

She then told Musichetta about what Enjolras had said about wanting to be himself again, both _physically_ — wishing to wait until the cast had come off and he had regained the use of both his legs — and _mentally_, saying something about not wanting to be changed too much if he committed himself fully to Éponine in this way. She then went on to talk about her first fight with Enjolras, about how Marius was the reason and how amazed she was initially that Enjolras could be jealous of the other man.

Musichetta listened quietly, not entirely surprised by what she was hearing. When it was her time to speak, she advised Éponine that men, despite of what they said and how they appeared to be on the outside, generally wished to be strong and needed in their relationship with a woman. Even when she truly held the reins of him in bed, a man typically wanted to believe that they were in control. So Musichetta was not surprised that Enjolras, despite his lack of experience in this field, would wish to be… _fully fit_ when he finally succumbed to Éponine.

As to him saying that he did not want to be changed too much, well, she suspected that he was possibly unnerved by how attached he was to Éponine. Musichetta had after all predicted that Enjolras would fall in love with Éponine first. He possibly did not wish to lose himself completely to her… _Especially_ if there was a prospect that he might be wrenched apart from her when his father came into the mix, though Musichetta of course did not say this last bit to Éponine.

And considering what Joly had told her of Enjolras' rocky relationship with Marius and Éponine's devoted past with the same man, Musichetta was rather surprised that Enjolras had not shown his jealousy of Marius sooner.

"So there is no doubt in my mind that he _wants_ you too, Éponine. You do not have to worry about that. In fact… I think he is most likely in love with you already. Now the question is, do _you_ love him? I ask you this every time and yet have never gotten a straight answer."

Éponine was quiet for a while, but the expression on her face said it all.

Musichetta could barely contain her excitement, but she asked in a decidedly tender voice, "I would hazard to guess that the two of you have not yet said it to each other?"

"No… Do you think I should?"

"Why not? Why delay if that is what's in your heart? And I am certain that he reciprocates your feelings." She gave the younger girl a cheerful smile, "I am happy to see that you shall not break his marble heart, after all, Éponine. I must admit that I was rather worried."

"Have you? I think it is impossible for me _not_ to feel the way I do about him, given what we have been through together."

"I suppose that is true. Have you talked about what the plan is for the future?"

Éponine nodded, "Because of his wanted status, he will need to remain in hiding. He has asked me to come along with him, wherever he is going. We will need new identities, but I do not mind if we have to change names and live outside the law. I have been doing that for the past few years, after all. He would at least be a better and more caring company than my parents. But I wonder…"

"What is it?"

"Well, speaking of parents, I do wonder what he intends to do with his. From what he tells me, they are not in bad terms. He cannot possibly just disappear and expect them to forget about him, can he? They are bound to go looking for him, especially as he seems to be the only heir to an old aristocratic family." Her expression turned cloudy then, "I cannot lie and say that I do not think about where I shall fit into this, Musichetta. If we do get new identities and continue to live in hiding, it _will_ be easier for me to stay with him. But at the same time, I do not want him to completely abandon his family, even if it means that he would not get to be with me as easily... or perhaps at all. I shall feel terrible if Enjolras were to cut ties with his parents for me. They do not sound like bad people and, unlike mine, _they_ would mourn the loss of their son."

Musichetta resisted the urge to tell Éponine what she knew. _Joly had better be convincing in there_, she thought. So instead she advised the girl to raise the subject directly with Enjolras. They needed to talk it through and come up with a solution in which Enjolras could reconcile all his worlds together. She wondered what Éponine would say when she found out about Enjolras' father. She herself was not sure of what the pair should do.

Her boldly romantic nature wanted them to just run away together, damn the consequences. It might have been easy if it were just a matter of escaping disapproving parents, but Musichetta could not deny that Enjolras' fugitive status added some unneeded complication. It remained to be the biggest obstacle that the pair would need to tackle, she thought. There was nothing like the uncompromising hand of the law to keep lovers apart after all. Thinking back to the _Éponine et Sabinus_ book that she had gifted the girl, Musichetta just hoped that Éponine would not be so inspired by it that she would repeat her namesake's fate quite so literally if (or when) the law did catch up to her revolutionary sweetheart.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the same time, Joly came in to other room and greeted Enjolras with such enthusiasm that it startled the latter into nicking himself mid-shave.

"I am quite sorry, Enjolras," he said, rifling through his satchel immediately. "Here, I have got some gauze and disinfectant, though for a small cut like this you may not wish to bear the stinging sensation from the latter. I hope you have cleaned the blade thoroughly before use though? Even a minor cut like this can sometimes become infected and cause dire effects." As Joly worked in treating the wound, which really was so minuscule that Enjolras wanted to shoo his hands away, he proceeded to list off a few surefire ways that Enjolras might treat his shaving blade in the future.

"Joly it is good to see you too," he remarked when his friend had finally stopped talking.

The other man replied with a jovial smile, "It has been much too long, Enjolras. I am glad to see you looking well, though a bit rosy in the face. You are not feeling hot, are you?"

"No, you have just startled me," _And interrupted my quality time with Éponine_, thought Enjolras, though of course he did not say the last part.

Joly just nodded and let Enjolras hold on to the gauze himself, as he took a look around the place, "I must say, I quite like the arrangement of this room, though I would suggest moving the bed slightly this way. It will encourage an improved energy flow and better light distribution. Perhaps that is why you are looking red, as I would estimate that in this position, the sunlight will come in right onto your face every morning."

Enjolras had missed Joly. He really did, because he found himself suppressing a smile, "I will take it into consideration. Are you here by yourself?"

"No, Musichetta is with me, though she is talking to Éponine in the other room. In fact, I had asked her to give us some time alone because I must give you some updates on your father. I believe Éponine does not know yet of his presence?"

Enjolras replied quietly, "I have not told her."

"Well, your father is finally in town. It did not take him long to discover your fugitive status, _mon ami_, and as you can imagine, he is not very amused, to say the least. So he has been _hounding_ Combeferre. In fact, Combeferre believes that he has even paid someone to follow him around, believing — quite correctly, I suppose — that Combeferre knows where you are and is bound to visit you. It is why he has opted not to come with me today. He has also taken care not to come calling to my house very often, in case your father's man ties me with you as well. You know, it is lucky that you have not introduced me to your parents, Enjolras, lest your father plagues me too."

Enjolras groaned. He felt rather surprised that his father was putting in this much effort into finding him. He had a cordial relationship with the man, but the latter had also never gone out of his way to be concerned about his well-being. _Just as long as the family name is preserved_… That thought was drilled into him so firmly that he heard it in his head in his father _and_ grandfather's voices. It was almost like the family motto: _Persevere!_

He supposed that was why his father was dogging Combeferre so severely for his whereabouts. He would be extremely anxious to sweep this matter away somehow and repair the damage to the family's reputation.

"Does he have a message for me?"

"Your father or Combeferre?"

"Either one. Both."

"Combeferre just advises for you to keep a low profile. As you can imagine, he is not very happy that you have gotten yourself expelled from the convent. I must say, that it really was the perfect cover, Enjolras. Your father would never have thought to look for you in a religious institution, given your opinions on the matter. Nevertheless," Joly added cheerfully, "I think this flat is an equally good alternative. I cannot imagine that you would miss being confined to your room at all hours in the convent."

"No, I would not."

"Yes, well, as long as you not attract attention to yourself, I think this apartment will be safe enough for the time being. And soon you shall be able to walk again! Next week I will come with the surgeon, Enjolras, and we shall get that cast taken off. It may take you a while to get your full range of movement back, depending on how the bones have re-set and the state of your muscles. In the meantime though, shall I take a look at your leg?"

As Joly inspected the limb, he relayed to Enjolras what his father had said to Combeferre. He just wanted to take his son home, he claimed, which really was precisely what Enjolras had predicted. It would not be easy, but he would find some way to get Enjolras out of the city. He still had the odd connections at high places, he told Combeferre, so he would likely be able to take care of the criminal convictions if he could just get to his son...

"It does not sound like a bad offer, Enjolras. If your father can clear the warrant for your arrest, why not take it?" Joly asked, after declaring that Enjolras' leg was healing well.

"He will want something for it, keep me at home or sign me up for military service, most likely. I will never be able to return to Paris in the same capacity, never be able to do my _real_ work. On top of that, I do not think it is right that fellow citizens are being held in trial and are facing prison time — or worse — for doing the same things I did, while I would be able to walk away and get my record expunged because my father is connected. No, I simply would not accept it. And then, there is also the matter of Éponine..."

"Is that why you have not let her know? Because your father will keep you apart? I really think you should tell her, Enjolras. The two of you will need to work this out together."

"I do not see a solution yet, Joly, and I would rather not worry her." He did not add that he was afraid that Éponine might try to be selfless and give him up, in favor of him escaping safely.

"What do you plan to do then?"

"Lie low until I get my leg back, obtain fake papers, and then find some place to live, preferably still around Paris, where I can continue to contribute to the cause, while also avoiding my father and the authorities."

"You are fine cutting ties with your parents?"

Enjolras wanted to appear resolute, but instead he just sounded resigned, "I cannot live the life they want me to live."

"But, still, it seems like such drastic measures..."

"What would you advise me do?"

"I am not sure, Enjolras. Is there no way to reconcile your parents with Éponine?"

He considered it for a while, but he had been thinking about it for some time now and he did not arrive at a different conclusion now that Joly had directly asked him the question, "I do not think so. They are not very forbidding, but I do not see them consenting to me… consorting with her."

Joly pondered over it as well. He was fortunate that _his_ parents were not so traditional. They were merchants who had gathered their enormous wealth through pure industry, so they were less concerned about a person's social status, but instead appreciated anyone who made their own fortune. He had not introduced Musichetta to his family, but he did not anticipate any objections. She was a hard-working _grisette_, after all, and even if she was not, she had the good fortune of being able to charm just about anybody.

So, yes, Joly could not claim to know the intricacies of Enjolras' relationship with his parents, but if he could not help in advice, he could possibly assist logistically.

"If you are certain that you must escape your parents as well, Enjolras, then perhaps I can offer you a place to go? I shall speak to my parents, but I am certain that you can take refuge in my family home. That way, I shall not continually worry about where you and Éponine are, wondering if the law has finally caught up with you. It is not so near Paris, but at least you will be safe."

Enjolras looked quite surprised, but finally said, "Thank you, Joly. That... may not be a bad option."

"I would still strongly advise you to tell Éponine though. If there is one thing I can tell you from my past relationships — and with Musichetta, in particular — is that women do not like to be kept in the dark, even when you think it is for their own protection. Trust me, _mon ami_, your mistress will make you regret it."

"I will keep that in mind."

Joly's face broke out in a vibrant smile then, "How odd is this, Enjolras? Me giving you romantic advice? I'd never thought I'd see the day when you would have a mistress before Combeferre."

"Yes, well..."

"Speaking of our cherished friend, I think we should do something about that. I worry that he has assumed too much responsibility, which is why love is now distinctly low on his list of priorities. But what could be more glorious than it?" Then Joly said the next line in such a serious tone that Enjolras was about to have a small heart attack, "Perhaps Musichetta and I should take him on as our lover."

"What?" Enjolras turned to look at his friend so quickly that he must have pulled a muscle.

Joly laughed easily, "I am only jesting of course. Musichetta and I are quite devoted to each other, really. Though knowing Combeferre and how he is in all matters of his life, I have no doubt that he will also be a generous lover."

Enjolras groaned, "Joly, can we not?"

The young medical student was still chuckling, "I am sorry, Enjolras. You should have seen your face. I could not resist. So what do you wish to talk about then?"

"How _is_ Combeferre? Apart from his love life, or lack thereof, that is."

"Well, as I mentioned, he has many things pulling at him. And I regret to say that your father's presence is not helping."

"I wish there was a way I can throw my father off his case… What is the news on his family?"

"That is the other thing. His mother grows weak everyday. He might need to take a trip home soon."

Enjolras frowned, "I regret to hear that about his mother, but him leaving Paris may not overall be a bad thing. I shall miss his presence, of course, but at least this way, he will escape my father's attention."

"Yes, that is true. And Combeferre's family is not far from mine. If you and Éponine do end up there, he can visit you more easily." Something seemed to occur to Joly then, "Speaking of Éponine, do you think you shall... marry her soon? My family will not mind either way, Enjolras, to be honest — if you stay with them — as they are quite modern. And I make no judgement of course, as Musichetta has moved in with me, so we are also living together unmarried."

Enjolras remained quiet for a while, "I had not thought about it... To be quite honest, the possibility of marriage would not have even occurred to me a month ago."

"Well, again this is something you should discuss with Éponine. She is rather young still. But you are— How shall I put this? The two of you are _sexually_ involved?"

"What? No!" Enjolras looked mightily uncomfortable as he continued on in a low voice, "Not yet at least."

"Oh. Well, you do know what is entailed—"

"Yes, Joly, I know... _enough_." _And Combeferre has certainly done more than his fair share of explanation_, Enjolras thought. "It is not that..."

"Are you perhaps worried about getting her with child? Because if that is the case, I have several methods and other countermeasures that I can share with you."

"No, I mean— I certainly do not want to get her with child while unwedded, but that is not it..." Enjolras searched in his head for the best way to explain it.

Thankfully, he was saved the effort, as the women chose that moment to come join them in the bedroom.

Joly mouthed to Enjolras telling him to write him if he needed those tips after all, but otherwise let the subject drop.

As the room only had one chair, which was now taken by Joly, Musichetta went over to sit on his lap, while Éponine joined Enjolras at the foot of the bed. She questioned him about the cut on his face and caressed it in concern without a second thought.

"How are you, Enjolras?" asked Musichetta. "I can see that you are looking rather red around the cheeks as well, but it is a lovely glow."

Éponine sent a small glare her friend's way, while Joly looked at his mistress with a quizzical glance, "_As well_? Was Éponine looking a bit flush also? It _might_ be a sign of a shared illness." He turned towards the other girl and studied her countenance, "You look fine, Éponine."

Musichetta gave Enjolras and Éponine an apologetic look but remained chuckling. She could not resist baiting Joly sometimes. She gave him a kiss on his cheek, "I am sure they are well, _mon chéri_. I am only remarking on the healthy coloring that Enjolras seems to be exhibiting alongside Éponine. It suits you, _Monsieur_. It suits the _both_ of you."

"Thank you, Musichetta," said Enjolras finally, because he did not know what else to say.

The four of them spent the next few hours chatting. Musichetta watched Enjolras and Éponine with much interest, as it was the first time she saw them interacting as romantic partners. While they certainly were not as affectionate as she and Joly were, there was a tenderness in the way that Enjolras spoke to Éponine, for example. It was true that Musichetta did not know him well, but from what Joly had told her and from what she had observed for herself thus far, she thought that he was certainly showing a softer side that no one thought existed. But _only_ for Éponine, as Enjolras still talked to Musichetta in the same reserved formality that he always had, not that she minded.

As to Éponine herself, Musichetta liked how the girl was not doting on Enjolras, but instead had this natural way about her, at being on his side. It was the subtle things, sometimes, that showed how lovers felt about each other. And it was certainly the case for Éponine and Enjolras, who consistently positioned themselves towards the other, even when they were not touching or looking at each other. Musichetta felt very happy indeed for her friend and Joly's dear former leader.

Enjolras, meanwhile, found himself undeniably joyous at being able to simply converse with the company that he had. He'd underestimated how much he'd missed the presence of someone from his 'old world'. But it was not because he yearned for a return to the past, where he would hold court and lead Joly and the others in discussion as their leader. No, he was just glad to spend time with _friends_ and, in fact, to see that Joly had someone who loved him in the form of Musichetta. For the first time in his life, he thought he finally understood how a person could derive joy simply from sitting next to someone they loved.

They continued talking until they were interrupted by Jacques arriving for his lesson. Joly, upon finding out that Enjolras was receiving students, reacted with much characteristic joy and announced that he could not wait to tell Combeferre, who would surely be delighted to hear about the development. He introduced himself to the mason with such enthusiastic cheer that the other man was rather taken back. Musichetta also greeted Jacques politely, telling him not to mind her sweetheart so much, as he was in a particularly merry mood tonight. And with that, Joly and Musichetta took their leave, promising to come visit often to make up for the time they could not do so as freely when the couple was in the convent. While Enjolras started on his session with Jacques, Éponine left them to cook dinner. It had indeed been a rather pleasant afternoon for them all.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** No outright E/É scenes, but hopefully you still liked it because Joly and Musichetta are back! Oh my gosh, I'd missed writing Joly. He is not the easiest to write, to be honest, because it's tricky getting into the mindset of someone who's a hypochondriac, who worries about every little malady, and yet remains the most cheerful person. But I just LOVE Joly. I'm a HUGE Joly/Musichetta shipper, but I also like Combeferre/Joly (both as medical bros or romantically), so I inserted a little bit of it there. Hope you didn't mind.

I also included a few more background stories and some hints for future plot lines. Joly's family situation was expanded from something I wrote back in Chapter 7. You will hear more about Combeferre's in a later chapter, but I had always planned on him being dogged by Enjolras' father. I have also come up with a back story for Enjolras that would explain why his father is solely concerned about their family name. Is it true that all of the _Les Amis_, except for Bousset, are from the south? I think I saw a quote of it somewhere.

Anyway, what do you think? Feel free to give me your theories as to how I'll take this. Otherwise, please review if you could. Feedback is the fuel that keeps me going, as my muse can be fickle lately. 'Til next time!


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer:** _Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes:** Once again, THANK YOU so much for the fantastic reviews and new follows/faves! Such kind words, I am floored. Thanks also to all who replied about my query about the barricade boys (Yes, they are from the south, except for Bousset). This actually fits perfectly with the family history I've composed for Enjolras ;-).

This chapter is dedicated to **teachers**. I am not one and do not think I have enough patience to be one. I know that not all teachers are perfect, but I've met some really excellent ones, who really inspired me and made a difference in my learning. I have a great respect for the profession and think that they do not get enough appreciation. So if any of my readers are one, here's to you! You shall see precisely why I'm dedicating this to you :-).

Special thanks also goes to **kpmushu** on tumblr for bouncing ideas with me for this chapter. This was tough to write, but you really helped me develop the concept :-)_._

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**Chapter 29**

On the afternoon following Joly and Musichetta's visit, when Éponine had had a few errands to run, Enjolras sat by himself in the dining room to do his correspondence. He normally would do his writing on the desk in the bedroom, but today, as his papers and pens were already strewn across the dining table after his session with Théo, he decided to just continue on there.

The light was not good here late in the day, he immediately thought, since the window overlooked rows of buildings behind the bakery. He was considering whether he could be bothered moving his things to the bedroom when a scene in the alleyway below caught his eye.

_Monsieur_ Rimbaud was standing outside the back door of the bakery, smoking his pipe, when a number of street urchins started approaching him one by one. They were not moving furtively — as they typically would when looking to pickpocket someone — but were behaving as if they had a certain familiarity with the man, some even greeting him cheerfully. And indeed, the latter proceeded to wordlessly hand a sack to the tallest _gamin_ and went to sit on one of the wooden boxes littering the back street.

As it turned out, the sack contained bread and the boy holding it handed a roll to each of his companions. They all then took a seat around the baker as they ate the bread. Once in a while, one of the children spoke to _Monsieur_ Rimbaud and the latter returned speech, but he kept his answers short, just seemingly content to be in their company, still smoking his pipe. He was presumably taking a break from his work at the bakery.

Enjolras watched the whole scene unfolded with much amazement. He knew from Éponine that the _Monsieur_ was supplying bread to the convent, oftentimes offering his leftover stock free-of-charge through his mother-in-law, but it appeared that he had also taken it upon himself to feed some of the street children in the vicinity.

He decided to make his way downstairs to try and speak to the man. It was a particularly strenuous effort for him to brave those four flights down, but when he arrived on the ground floor, suitably breathless, he found to his luck that the baker was still sitting outside, though now he was by himself. The children must have all departed somewhere, taking the sack of bread with them.

He greeted the _Monsieur_ politely and the two exchanged pleasantries. They had not spoken since the day he and Éponine arrived, as the baker never ventured upstairs to visit the couple's flat, being a seemingly incurious person. And indeed, Enjolras was to discover that the baker really was a man of a few words, who felt comfortable at being around another person without saying anything. He did not even ask why Enjolras wanted to keep him company and only silently offered the other man a puff of his pipe, to which Enjolras declined, as he did not smoke.

Never one to dawdle, Enjolras decided to just get into the reason of why he was here and commented on what he saw through the window just now. Rimbaud only shrugged his shoulders in response and said that he had baked too much bread today. It would have been a waste to throw it away.

"Forgive me, _Monsieur_, I do not mean to pry," Enjolras said slowly, "But it looks to me like a regular occurrence. Those children behaved like they know you."

The man shrugged again and finally said, "It is a special privilege that I have as a baker to be surrounded by food. I do not believe it right for children to starve."

Enjolras nodded and conveyed respect in his tone, "For what it's worth, I think it is an admirable thing that you are doing, _Monsieur_. Not many people can be as generous, especially when profit becomes a consideration and the price of flour is not low."

Rimbaud remained quiet for a while, silently puffing away. Enjolras thought that perhaps he'd had his fill of sharing and was about to move the conversation to another subject, but before he could do so, the man spoke again, saying the following in a matter-of-fact manner, "Well, it is very simple for me, _Monsieur_. I used to be one of them."

The baker must have decided that Enjolras was someone with whom he could confide, because he was quite forthcoming in speech. He told him of how he used to scrap in the streets for food and shelter, just like these children. It was certainly a tough life that he would not wish on anyone. His fortune changed, however, when at ten years old he got a job as a kitchen hand. It afforded him with a roof over his head and the crucial knowledge to make his own food. When it was discovered that he was particularly talented at baking, his master apprenticed him to a _pâtissier_. He remained there for many years, honing his skills and saving money, until he had enough to open up his own bakery.

He had never forgotten his humble beginnings though and vowed that whenever he could, he would try and help those street children. He felt that if they were not starving, if at least the urchins did not have to worry so much about how they could get their daily bread, then they would be less desperate for money and, in turn, would hopefully be discouraged from a life of criminality. Throughout the years, he had in fact seen too many of his fellow _gamins_ perishing in prison, just because they were out of options...

Rimbaud had even hired some of the older children to help around the bakery, intending to teach them this particular skill of turning flour and water into sustenance. Nevertheless, the reality was, not everyone was naturally good at baking, so despite his instructions, it was likely that some of these children might need to learn other skills as well.

At this point, Rimbaud asked how his son's lessons were progressing. Enjolras told him that Théo was a bright boy and proved to be a rather quick study. The _Monsieur_ had made the correct decision in engaging a tutor for him, he said, as his was a mind that would certainly benefit from frequent stimulation.

The baker nodded, "I recognize literacy as the way of the future, _Monsieur_. No offense to your old profession — my mother-in-law said that you were a soldier? — but what you do now is even more important. Anyone can pick up a rifle when pushed to it, but only a few can pick up a pen and teach. I learnt reading and writing by myself in the kitchens, which was not easy. Even now I only know the basics, certainly not good enough to teach my own son. It seems like baking is my only talent."

"But it is such a valuable, practical skill, is it not? You said so yourself that people struggle, doing whatever they can for money, just so they can buy what _you_ make."

"Yes, and I thank God everyday that I am where I am. But not everyone is as fortunate. I think being literate opens more doors, which is what I want for my own children and also those _gamins_, if I am to be honest, _Monsieur_."

Enjolras contemplated it for a while, taking in the baker's words. The solution was so obvious that it struck him suddenly, but without surprise. Here was a way he might be able to contribute in a practical manner from his current predicament, given the cast still on his leg and the need to remain hidden. He had never thought that he would volunteer the service that he was about to offer, but he felt it almost his duty to do so...

"_Monsieur_, I wonder if you would you consider the following proposition. Would you tolerate Théo learning with other children? He would no longer have the benefit of a private tutelage, but if you consent to it, then I would not mind taking on some of those street children as students alongside your son. I will not charge a _sou_, of course, as this would help me see if the life of a teacher is indeed for me. Nevertheless, if you do insist on Théo learning individually, then that is fine as well, as the other children can perhaps come later on in the afternoon or along with Jacques in the evening. Either way, I think it will be good for them to get off the streets even for a few hours to learn this skill."

The baker took a few moments to think about it and finally said, "That is quite a generous offer, _Monsieur_. I shall need to discuss it with my wife. I am not sure she will like Théo interacting with the street children, but I personally think that it will be good for him to have playmates from the _real world_, lest he thinks that everyone is as lucky as him."

Enjolras nodded and the two men fell once more into a companionable silence. When the baker left to return to work, Enjolras decided to stay behind and sit for a while in the alleyway. It was not everyday that he could spend time outdoors, so he relished the opportunity. He did not even mind that he was sitting in a rather dirty street. There was something that was forming in his mind which he needed to work out. And he was not quite ready to exert himself over the journey up the stairs anyway.

He was still passing the time there when Éponine returned. _Monsieur_ Rimbaud advised her of her husband's whereabouts when she passed through the bakery on her way up to the flat. She came out the back to find him sitting on a crate with his back against the wall, staring at the opposite building.

"What are you doing here, Enjolras?" Éponine asked with a smile, putting her arms around his shoulders and kissing him hello.

"I am thinking of Condorcet."

She suitably looked at him with a quizzical expression, so he asked her to sit down on a box next to him. He then proceeded to tell her of the scene he'd witnessed today, which prompted his chat with _Monsieur_ Rimbaud and the offer he'd subsequently made to the other man.

Éponine looked at him in delight, "You would do that, Enjolras? You would teach the _gamins_?"

"I must admit that I still do not think that I am very good with children, but I figure that it is something I can do from where I am."

"I am amazed and happy to hear it of course, since I have been telling you for a while now that you should consider it a potential profession for yourself. Speaking as one of your _students_, I can say that you are very good at it. And I know that you enjoy it too, because I see this certain expression on your face whenever I've understood something you taught me."

Enjolras laughed a little, "You and Combeferre are of like mind. He has been telling me, quite steadily, for as long as I've known him that progress can only be made gradually through education."

"And here I thought your change of heart is solely my doing," Éponine teased. "As it turns out, _Monsieur_ Combeferre has been in your mind all along."

"Well, I would not say that I have had a complete change of heart, but I am certainly more open to this _alternate_ path. And I give you _both _credit. It is quite fascinating to me how the two of you often come to the same conclusions, despite not communing with each other. I mentioned Condorcet earlier… I never told you, but that Condorcet work that you say is your favorite is also Combeferre's favorite. The copy that we are using is actually a gift from him from when I first met him. I think he had rather hoped that I would read it and be inspired to be more temperate in my ambitions. I must admit that I did not truly appreciate it the first time around."

"Is that so? But it is the first one you asked me to read to you! You must have liked it more than you realized, Enjolras."

"Yes, Combeferre would have made a conscious decision to pack it with my things when he stopped by my house, guessing correctly that I might want to re-read it the first chance I got, given my circumstances." Enjolras then told her of the situation surrounding Condorcet when he wrote this tome, namely that he was also under a self-imposed house arrest to avoid capture by the authorities.

"I can see how it would have appealed to you."

"And the more we read and discussed it together, the more I understand why it appeals to Combeferre to such a significant extent. You and he actually have different reasonings for liking the book, deriving from _his_ patience and _your_ practicality, but it had not occurred to me until now that I can in fact adapt both of your interpretations for my own purposes."

Because Éponine was looking at him with a puzzled expression, Enjolras continued on, "For Combeferre, Condorcet's work represents his overarching belief that equality, freedom, and justice are hand-in-hand with scientific progress, that if we cultivate rationalism _patiently _through education, then we as a society can evolve to embrace universal human rights and reject the shackles of injustices. For you, Éponine, I think it is more personal. You embrace Condorcet's idea that anyone is capable of independent thought and self-improvement, because that is precisely who _you_ are when freed of those shackles I mentioned. You have always had the intellectual capacity to learn, but your conditions previously prevented you from doing so. And if that happened to you, then it is not out of the question that it can happen to many others who are in your previous position."

Éponine remained silent, seemingly in contemplation. She finally spoke slowly, "In other words, because you have managed to help me learn, then you are open to passing on your knowledge to others as a teacher?"

He had to smile at Éponine's knack for re-phrasing his ideas into simple terms, "Yes, and here is the other revelation that came to me, as I sit here. _Monsieur_ Rimbaud and I discussed talents earlier, about how he is particularly suited to life as a baker because he is good at baking bread. It is simple for him. For me, it is not so, because my talents are not entirely practical. I cannot make food like Rimbaud or provide healthcare like Combeferre, Joly, and even yourself, Éponine, as I still maintain that you can have a career as a medical caretaker. Musichetta makes clothes for a living and Jacques builds houses. All of these — food, health, clothing, shelter — are essentials in life. And yet, I cannot produce any of them. My talents are completely arbitrary. You once said that I am good at speaking and passing my knowledge on to others. In the past, I used this to create and lead my own revolutionary group. I can no longer realistically do so from my current position, so I must temper my ambitions and consider what is _practical_. You and Combeferre are correct, of course, that what I can do instead is take on students. It uses the same talents, but on a smaller and more personal scale, which is something that I admittedly would find challenging. Nevertheless, this is what I have resolved to do for the moment, while we are here. I still hold hope that in future I will be able to return to a position or profession where I can use my words to spur people into enacting widespread change, but… I no longer insist that the world can _only_ be changed brazenly through the fires of revolution."

Éponine understood that this was quite a breakthrough for Enjolras, but she was also lost for words. Enjolras did not mind though, as he took her hand and said lightly, "Of course I do not know how receptive those street children would be to learning. I still remember what you said about practical, survival matters taking precedence over mostly everything, including, I would hazard to guess, learning to read and write."

"Well, you are lucky that you have me, then, Enjolras," Éponine said with a wide smile. "As a former _gamine_, I may perhaps be the ideal person to assist you in handling the children. You seem to be doing well with Théo, but he is only one boy. Street urchins _are_ a different breed altogether. Their mind is crafty and most even have their own language. Yes, some _would_ definitely be resistant to learning, but I would never underplay your ability to inspire and change minds."

"Thank you, Éponine," he replied simply. He felt extremely grateful for having her in his support system. She was the truly the main reason he was healing well, both mentally and physically, in his life after the barricades. He did not know how he would have fared if he did not have her.

They had turned their heads to look at each other while sitting side-by-side, so he only had to lean forward a little to capture her lips. He tried to express his gratitude in his kiss, his hand softly caressing her cheek. He had by now kissed her frequently, but he felt that each time was no less significant than the one before. If it were not for the fact that he was suddenly aware that they were kissing in a backdrop that was not quite so romantic, he would have blurted out just exactly how he felt about her then and there.

Éponine was thinking along the same lines, as she broke the kiss and said with fire behind her eyes, "Now come on. Let us go up and continue this in a _nicer_ setting. I have done my fair share of kissing in dirty alleyways. It does not precisely put me in a romantic mood."

Enjolras raised his eyebrows at her, but she only chuckled, "Do not worry, Enjolras. I will take your lips over anyone else's and I will still kiss you _anywhere_ you'd like."

Her words made him feel hot straight away and he wondered whether she was referring to the venue or… a place on _his_ body. Either way, he had to concentrate on calming himself.

Éponine was still chuckling as she helped him up the stairs. It really was rather easy to stir this _virginal_ man of hers.

Enjolras did not manage to do his correspondence after all. Instead, he lazed away the afternoon on the bed with Éponine, watching the sunset. He argued to himself that he was too tired from the trek up and down the stairs, but he truly cherished these quiet moments when he could just hold her in his arms. They still had not moved past kisses and caresses, but he found himself also increasingly anxious to get this cast off and regain his fitness…

Later on in the evening, Jacques arrived for his session accompanied by _Monsieur_ Rimbaud. He had spoken to his wife, the latter said, and though she was not completely happy with it, they had agreed that it would be fine if Enjolras took those _gamins_ on as Théo's classmates. Rimbaud would purchase learning books for them, as it was the least he could do, given that Enjolras was doing the lessons for free. And he could also start sending the children to Enjolras tomorrow if the latter did not object?

Enjolras looked at Éponine, who gave him an encouraging smile, wordlessly telling him that she would be right there beside him, so he told Rimbaud that that sounded like a good plan.

Éponine, Théo, Jacques, and the _gamins_… The list of Enjolras' students kept on growing. But it would not stop there, as Enjolras would soon find that there were others still who would wish to learn from him.

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**Author's Notes:** I know, more OC! I promise, this all has a purpose, trust me :-). Rimbaud's background is inspired by one belonging to Marie Antoine (Antonin) Carême, who came from the slums but managed to become the first celebrity chef. He pioneered the "high art" of French cooking (_grande cuisine_) and reportedly baked Napoleon's wedding cake. I stumbled upon him when I was researching (for Chapter 16) on whether or not people would have casually baked cakes in the 1830s. I go off on a tangent when I research (ha!).

While this is indeed mainly a romantic story between Enjolras and Éponine, I think for either of them to 'realistically' settle to a life after the barricades, they need to find a new purpose for themselves. And I do not think it healthy if their purpose is solely each other (then they would only be replacing _Patria_ and Marius with each other, which I do not think is a basis for a solid, long-term relationship). So this is what I am exploring for Enjolras in this chapter. I think the failure of the barricades would have prompted him to re-consider his approach. And given that Combeferre and Éponine are the two closest people to him, their values (patience and practicality) would have seeped into his mind and allowed him to come up with this alternate profession, at least for a while.

I do not mind telling you that writing this chapter was like squeezing blood through stone. It was like my words were drying up for a while and I had massive self-doubts. I wasn't sure whether I should go ahead with this storyline for Enjolras, but in the end, this was how I originally planned it, so I am going to go with it.

Anyway, please review if you can. What do you think of Enjolras as a teacer? Is that really stretching your disbelief? Until next time!


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer:** _Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras and Joly/Musichetta.

**Author's Notes:** Merci beaucoup encore for the responses regarding the direction I'm taking with Enjolras. I've had some additional discussions with a few of you via messages, so hopefully I don't disappoint!

This chapter is dedicated to all of you, dear Enjolras/Éponine shippers! I know that we've been getting some hate, but think about it this way. The fact that the haters are so _actively_ hating the ship shows just how _threatene_d they are by the strength and popularity of this ship. We are a force to be reckoned with and by not responding to the hate (or by only responding through a show of love for É/E via new fanarts, fics, and so on), we show them how impervious we are as a ship. We are unsinkable, regardless of how many persistent 'canons' they want to fire our way. Anyway, soapbox off, ship metaphors stowed away, so without further ado, enjoy!

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**Chapter 30**

Over the next few days, Enjolras found himself becoming accustomed to life as a teacher and the schedule that he was keeping. In the morning, after breakfast, he and Éponine would sit down with Théo and some of the _gamins_ until it was time for luncheon. The afternoon remained his free time, which he would spend with Éponine, doing whatever they felt like. He had so far managed to tackle the four flights of stairs down and up for two days in a row to accompany her on her errands. He could just imagine Combeferre's disapproval, but he really rather cherished being outside, back in the arguably filthy streets of Paris and among his fellow citizens. Besides, to the world, the two of them possibly seemed like a normal couple in the middle of their afternoon stroll.

Despite the risk of… _delightful distractions_, he also tried to continue with Éponine's education whenever they had some free time. He was happy to see that she was still committed to being his student. Nevertheless, it was he, in fact, who no longer wished to devote as many hours to their reading as they used to. In the past two afternoons, he had wrapped up their studies well before sundown, so that he could have enough time to rest and lie down with Éponine before the evening's activities. They were content to just simply enjoy each other's company in the dusk light and did not even need to talk.

For the past two evenings, they had also entertained Joly and Musichetta, who were looking to make it a habit, it seemed, to come calling. Perhaps they wished to make up for lost time and Combeferre's absence. Unlike the first visit though, they did not leave when Jacques arrived, especially once they'd met the street children who were joining him in lesson. After the _gamins_' first class that morning, Enjolras had in fact arranged for some of them to come to the evening session instead...

As Éponine predicted, getting the street urchins to learn was not such a simple feat. Enjolras was extremely grateful for her presence, in fact, as she literally spoke the same language as them and knew how to get them in line if so required.

The group that arrived on that first morning was composed of six _gamins_, four boys and two girls, with ages ranging from seven to eleven. _Monsieur_ Rimbaud must have established a strong relationship with them to be able to convince them to come, as Enjolras could see straight away that these were children who were generally distrustful of adults. They did not even bother to whisper as they spoke to each other using words that did not make sense to Enjolras and of course Théo, who was looking at the newcomers with a great deal of curiosity. Before the little boy could pipe up to ask his teacher what they were saying, Éponine addressed the street urchins using the same parlance. She explained to Enjolras later that it was a slang used among the street dwellers and criminals to prevent outsiders from understanding them.

The _gamins_ were suitably stunned to hear the _Monsieur_'s wife speaking _argot_ and quite fluently too, like she had only left the streets recently. From the couple's accents, they pegged _him_ straight away as noble-born and _her_ as certainly not. It was a particular skill that most urchins picked up in the streets, to be able to identify a person's background from their accent. It was most useful in determining who would be most profitable to pickpocket, especially when a rich person thought it a good idea to come to the slums in disguise…

Speaking of which, the eldest _gamin_ asked Éponine in a wry tone what the wealthy _Monsieur_ was doing here and how a girl like her came to be involved with him. Éponine explained their situation to an extent, being deliberately vague about Enjolras' assumed identity as a wounded soldier and saying instead that her husband was only looking to help them learn, specifically to teach them to read and write. Did they not want a chance to get out of their situation like _Monsieur_ Rimbaud had managed to do and like she herself had done? She told them that it would be their choice to come here everyday, but if they wanted to have any hope in the future, then they better gave the _Monsieur_ their attention because he knew how to _change lives_.

The urchins looked at each other and thought that they had nothing to lose, really. They were already getting a steady supply of bread from _Monsieur_ Rimbaud, which allowed them to survive independently of the adult gangs. If this couple wanted to offer them a place to get out of the streets for a few hours of the day, why say no? The children shrugged their shoulders to show their agreement.

"Good," said Éponine still in _argot_. "Here are the rules. You will only speak in french from now on and address my husband as '_Monsieur_ Émile'. You can call me Éponine or whatever you like, but as long as you show the _Monsieur_ respect, then we are fine. I can guarantee that he will also treat you with respect. Trust me, he is unlike any other rich person that you will have met. He never looks down on anyone and treats every person — man, woman, or child — the same. Speaking of which, that boy over there is Théo. He is the baker's son and will be learning with you. I'd like you to think about everything that _Monsieur_ Rimbaud has done for you and be on your best behavior when interacting with Théo, do you understand? Finally, I know every trick that you have, so do not even try it. If you are good, I may even share with you some of _my_ tricks. I too spent many years in the streets, so believe me when I say that I have some excellent ones… Do we have a deal?"

The children glanced at each other again. They certainly would not be getting anything past the _Monsieur_'s wife. Nevertheless, the oldest _gamin_ finally said in french, "_Ouais_, _Madame_. We do."

"Excellent," Éponine replied with a smile.

Enjolras and Théo, who had been watching the exchange of strange words with an identical bewildered expression, turned to Éponine, who explained to them quickly everything to which the urchins had just agreed.

The oldest _gamin_, who seemed to be the leader — or at the very least, the spokesperson — of the group, approached Enjolras and held out his hand. "I'm called Luc," he said with a toothy grin that was missing a couple of teeth.

Enjolras shook his hand, "And I am Émile, though I heard my name being mentioned when my wife was speaking to you, so I believe you already know it?"

"That is correct, _Monsieur_," said Luc again. He indeed seemed to be their leader, as he then went on to introduce the rest of his fellow urchins. The two youngest _gamins_, a girl and a boy who looked to be seven years old were already talking to Théo. Or rather, the baker's son was chattering away to the other two, asking _them _questions and looking generally excited about having new playmates.

Upon seeing that, Éponine pulled Enjolras aside and whispered in his ear, "I'd like to give these children a bath at some point and do something about the lice in their hair, lest Théo comes home to his mother with an infestation."

Enjolras nodded. They would need to discuss it later. For the moment, he decided to engage Luc on how he thought the lessons might best be conducted, as he would know best the capabilities of the others. The latter looked delighted to have been consulted and made some suggestions. He then mentioned that there were other _gamins _who could be interested to come along as well, but it might be difficult for the _Monsieur _if they all came together. Enjolras told him that he was also tutoring _Monsieur_ Rimbaud's brother-in-law in the evening, so perhaps if the older _gamins _could come then and let Théo learn with children who were close to his age? Luc thought that it was an acceptable idea and said that he would bring in the older _gamins _in the evening.

All in all, it was a fruitful first session, all things considered. Théo was predictably more distracted, wishing to chat with his new classmates more than keeping his head down and concentrating on the books in front of him. He got along particularly well with the _gamine_ who was just his age.

Later on in the evening, Luc kept his promise and returned with some of the older urchins, whose age ranged from nine to twelve. This was when Joly and Musichetta met them. Enjolras attended to Jacques straight away, as he wanted to make sure that the mason was fine with the arrangement. Like his nephew, he was coming along well, though he did not possess Théo's sheer cleverness and instead kept it up through hard work. His determination was admirable though and Enjolras highly respected him for it.

Luc, meanwhile, took to Musichetta straight away, as he thought that she was such a beauty. Joly would have somewhat objected (or be amused), but he was too distracted by the state of the children and was engaging them in a conversation about their health. He in fact shared the same thought as Éponine, that he would like to get these children to take a bath, because he was particularly worried about their likelihood of contracting cholera, which remained a widespread menace after all. A bath would not eradicate the risk altogether, as they were still living in the streets, but he thought that it would help if they'd had a wash occasionally. Éponine overheard him telling them this, while also providing tips on how they might keep themselves clean in the streets. She pulled him aside and suggested that the two of them go down to the kitchen below and fetch some water.

"They will not like it, _Monsieur_ Joly, but perhaps you can tell them all sorts of frightening stories about diseases and the importance of cleanliness?"

"That is a good idea, Éponine. I certainly have a lot of those," replied Joly with a sparkle in his eyes.

They left the children with Musichetta, who was actually about to use either Joly or Éponine as an excuse to escape the attentions of Luc. Instead, she now had several children peering at her, while the _gamin_ leader kept chattering away. Thankfully, Enjolras had finally finished speaking with Jacques, who was now busy scribbling in his book on the dining table. Enjolras gave Musichetta a confused expression, no doubt wondering where their… _significant others_ were. She just replied with a shrug of her shoulders and nudged her head towards Luc, pleading for him to take him off her hands.

Enjolras apparently got the message, as he quickly beckoned the boy and asked him if he would not mind talking to him for a minute. They still needed to work out the precise arrangements of the lessons after all. While the first one in the morning had gone well, Enjolras felt that it would benefit from having more of a structure and wondered what Luc thought about it. The latter once again felt ecstatic about being recognized as a voice of authority on his peers and rapidly shot out some ideas on how they might improve the classroom situation, starting with the addition of some kind of recess to break up the hours. These _gamins_ were not used to sitting still in a confined room for long periods of time after all. Perhaps give them half hour to run around and play, said Luc.

Musichetta, meanwhile, was talking to the other children about one thing or another, making a mental note to bring in her sewing kit and some fabric when she'd come by tomorrow, so that she might offer to mend some of their clothing if they were interested. Joly and Éponine returned not long after that with a basin of water each, which they carried to the bedroom. Everyone in the sitting room looked on curiously.

Enjolras clued in immediately to what they were doing and set about to convince Luc to get the other children to co-operate. He told the boy that his friend, Joly, over there was a doctor and he was _convinced_ that the cholera epidemic was spreading through unsanitary conditions and that one of the best ways to avoid contracting it was to keep ourselves clean. He and his friends would not wish to impose and tell the children what to do, as they clearly knew how to take care of themselves without adults, but would they perhaps tolerate Joly and Éponine helping them to wash up for a bit?

Luc looked at him with a frown, "I can't stop them if that's what they want to do, _Monsieur_. I am not their chief. I don't tell them what to do or not to do. But I've got to ask… What are you trying to get out of this? We do not need your charity, you know."

"I am not trying to give it. I suppose, I am— Well, if I am to be honest, I think I am attempting to correct a mistake I made in the past by _doing something _now."

"What mistake?"

Enjolras gave the boy a rueful smile, "I tried to help people once, tried to motivate them to change for the better… but I did not actually get to _know_ them personally. There was a boy like you among them and I should have made an effort to get to know him, to find out more about his life, about why he was there. But he's… deceased now, along with many others whom I thought I was helping and a lot of my own friends, in fact…" He paused there. The pain from that loss and the guilt would never completely subside, he thought. He would carry it for the rest of his life. "I would never have the opportunity to get to know that boy, Luc, but I'd like to get to know you and your companions. You say that you are not their chief and yet they are certainly looking at you for direction."

And indeed, some the _gamins_ were sneaking a glance at Luc before they let themselves be convinced by Éponine, Joly, and also Musichetta to wash up before their lesson. One in particular was staring at Luc and seemed to be waiting for his approval before she would go with Éponine. This little girl, in fact, was the same one who got along splendidly with Théo earlier and was obviously the youngest child in the room.

Luc gave her a nod and the girl flashed back a brilliant smile before taking Éponine's hand and going to the other room with her.

"That's my sister, Mireille," explained Luc. "It's been just the two of us for the past four years. I've been looking after her ever since our mother drowned herself in the river because our _bourgeois_ father abandoned her — and _us_, I might add — to marry his _bourgeois_ woman... So, you can see, _Monsieur_, why I do not trust the word of rich people very much."

"I am sorry to hear it, Luc," said Enjolras sympathetically. "But please do not mistake my tone with pity, as I am rather impressed by the way you cared for your sister and all these other children. If you give me the opportunity, I shall try to earn your trust and hopefully respect as well."

Luc looked at the _Monsieur_ with a feeling of restrained fascination. It seemed that _Madame_ Éponine spoke the truth when she said that this man was unlike any other rich person. Perhaps he was genuine in his motivations after all…

"All right, _Monsieur_. I appreciate it. I suppose I should also get myself clean, huh?"

And this was how it was for the next few days. The younger _gamins_ came in the morning, where Éponine would try and get them cleaned up before their lesson. Enjolras would then instruct them alongside Théo, with Éponine assisting, since she was actually quite capable of teaching the basics of reading and writing to the children as well. In the evening, when Joly and Musichetta were there, the session for the older _gamins _was more casual, as Joly used some of the time to look into the urchins' wellbeing, inspecting untreated scrapes and bruises and other battle wounds, while Musichetta took care of their clothing and Éponine their hygiene. Musichetta, in particular, was most popular among the children, as the boys thought that she was extremely pretty, on top of being kind, and the girls liked how she was mending their existing dresses — often replacing garments that were too dirty to salvage with clean ones — and helping them to look as lovely as her.

On her part, Musichetta felt her heart warming to see how good Joly was with the children. He showed genuine concern for their health, but his cheerful countenance and lighthearted attitude went far to endear him to the urchins and to get them to listen to his advice. His bribes also helped of course…

On the first night, Joly actually sneakily offered each children a _macaro_n if they would agree to take a bath. Musichetta did not find out until much later when he presented her with a pretty box that contained only one _macaron. _He apologized, saying that he had bought a full box earlier as a surprise gift for her, but had given most of the content away to the children. Musichetta was quite delighted, actually, to hear how sweet Joly was and rewarded him most generously in a way that she knew he liked. That one _macaron_ that she got to eat later also tasted like the most delectable thing she'd had for some time.

Éponine, meanwhile, did not need to resort to bribes, as she was developing quite a good rapport with the children, who saw her as a figure to emulate. Even Luc recognized that she knew what she was talking about when she'd started imparting them her knowledge of the streets and trusted her more readily than he would Enjolras. The latter saw the easy bond between the two and wondered whether, like him, she was somewhat motivated by what happened with her brother.

He and Éponine had never completely discussed Gavroche, but from what he gathered, it seemed that she was feeling a mixture of gratefulness and reproach over his fate. On the one hand, she admired her brother's independence in the streets, appearing able to survive free from their wretched parents' schemes when she herself could not. On the other though, she could not stop herself feeling regret at the fact that she did not do more to protect him, like an older sister should have, and that she was too caught up in her own sorrow, that she did not even think to survive _for_ him at the barricade… One of these days, Enjolras thought, perhaps he should bring this up with Éponine and get her to talk about it. For the moment though, she seemed enlivened by the opportunity to form a bond with Luc and his sister.

The routine with the _gamins_ continued on uninterrupted for the next several days until it was broken one night when the group received some highly unexpected visitors.

They were just settling in on the fifth evening when there was a knock on the door. Joly, who was closest, answered it to reveal three girls he did not recognize standing on the threshold with decidedly frightened and yet eager expressions on their faces.

Enjolras and Éponine certainly knew them though, as it was Justine, Gabrielle, and Renata, the last of whom they'd never met officially, but had seen in person, after all, that night in the convent corridor...

As it was, Enjolras and Éponine were too stunned to say anything. Joly and the _gamins_ did not know who these girls were and so were glancing back and forth between them and the couple expecting some kind of explanation. Jacques, who was distracted from his studies, appeared startled to see the visitors, as if he could not quite believe his eyes, and was staring at one of them in particular, his face rapidly going red to match his hair. It was up to Musichetta then, who had only been introduced to Gabrielle, out of the three, but had quickly deduced who the other two were…

"Good evening, girls," she said with a smile, finally breaking the silence. "What on earth are you doing here?"

* * *

**Author's Notes:** The structure of this chapter is rather odd, I know, where I gave an overview of the events over a couple of days and then returned to the first day. I'm just experimenting with my style and hope you didn't find it too confusing.

I researched argot a little bit for this chapter and it sounds like a coded language (maybe like cockney rhyming slang?). I think it's pretty cool that Éponine got to use something she learnt on the street to directly help Enjolras though. It's just another argument from me on why I think they are suited together :-).

As far as I can tell, _macarons_ have been around since the late 18th century, so I thought it was possible that Joly might get them as a present for Musichetta (I cannot ship them more!).

Yes, I know, more original characters! I'm not trying to replicate Gavroche in Luc, but I think it's good for the _gamins_ to have a leader-like character and for Éponine and Enjolras to be reminded of Gavroche in some way. And the end of this chapter (yes, sorry, another cliffhanger!) may give you an indication as to why I have introduced all of my OCs :-).

I already know what I want in the next chapter, but extra motivation wouldn't hurt, so please review if you can? See you soon (hopefully) and thanks!


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer: **_Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras and Joly/Musichetta. Also features Éponine/Joly friendship.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks so much for the nice words and new follows/faves I received after the previous chapter! Particularly glad to hear that you guys liked Luc :-). I'll keep this A/N short and wrap it up here, as there's a lot in this chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 31**

As it turned out, Justine and Gabrielle had been working for a while now on a way for them to re-unite with _Monsieur _Émile and _Madame_ Éponine. The latter had come to _Petit-Picpus_ several times after the couple's expulsion, but it had been during the day when the girls were in lesson. And there was no way that the _Monsieur_ would ever be allowed inside convent grounds, so if they had wanted to see them again, they would have to go to them on the outside. But _how?_

Their recreation hour was not long enough to allow them to slip out and come back in time. The only option then was during the evening after dinner when they were not watched as closely by the nuns. Obviously, they were expected to remain in the dormitory all night, but the nuns had rather enforced this rule through a mixture of physical and mental restrictions, rather than real strict supervision — _physical_, because the gate would naturally be locked at night, preventing anyone from getting out as well as coming in very easily, and _mental_, because the schoolgirls had been warned, throughout most of their lives, about the dangers and the horrors of the world outside. For most of the pupils, the thought of the darkened streets of Paris at night, filled with its murderers and robbers and vagrants, was enough to keep them inside the convent even without the aid of a lock.

For Justine and Gabrielle though, their desire to speak with the couple was overcoming any fear that they might have about traversing the short distance between _Petit-Picpus_ and the Rimbaud bakery. The bigger challenge for them was how they would get past the locked gate. The prioress had one set of keys, while _Monsieur_ Morel, as the gardener, had the other. The answer then was obvious, though it took some time and a mighty persuasive effort from the two to convince the Morels to allow them to sneak out through the gate.

Fortunately for the girls, _Madame_ Morel had always held the opinion that the pupils who were schooled here were far too cloistered by the nuns and could benefit from being exposed more to the world outside. Of course, she had never envisioned that they would want to roam the perilous streets of Paris alone at nighttime. It was indeed a big ask; one which could also jeopardize the Morels' jobs at the convent. Nevertheless, _Madame_ Morel _was _sympathetic to Justine and Gabrielle's plight and — after much hounding and begging by the girls — eventually let herself be won over by their persistent arguments. They would only be gone for two hours at the most, they promised. They would memorize and follow the _Madame_'s directions to the letter, they said, so that they would not get lost on the way. They would make sure they had another classmate they trusted covering for them at the dormitory, and so on and so forth…

When _Madame_ Morel finally relented, she only had one condition for the girls: They must let themselves be escorted by _Monsieur_ Morel. The _Madame_ would surely not feel right about the _Mademoiselles_ finding their way by themselves after dark. Her husband, of course, took some further convincing to go along with the plan, but _Madame_ Morel argued that it was better if the girls did this with their help than without, lest they found some other way to get outside by themselves and then encountered trouble. This way, the Morels could also ensure that the girls returned at the agreed time.

Thankfully for all involved, their first trip that evening went smoothly. While _Monsieur _Morel waited for them downstairs and spent time with his daughter and her family, the girls went upstairs to the couple's apartment. They had certainly not anticipated such a full house though. It was Justine who ultimately found her voice and greeted both _Monsieur_ Émile and _Madame_ Éponine, since she did not know the other people. She apologized for coming unannounced with her friends, but they and a few other pupils at the convent had been secretly studying the texts that the couple recommended and had many burning questions that only the _Monsieur_ and the _Madame_ could answer.

Finally snapping out of his surprise at seeing the girls _here_ at this hour, Enjolras introduced Justine and Gabrielle to the group and then greeted Renata politely, asking for her name, though of course he already knew it from the apologetic note that Justine sent just before he and Éponine left the convent. The girls, in return, were informed about who these children were and what they were doing here at the moment. Joly and Musichetta were presented as the couple's friends who were helping along with the session. Gabrielle smiled at the latter in recognition and said that it was a pleasure to see her again. Éponine had also come over and hugged Gabrielle hello, as they had not seen each other for a while now. Finally, Enjolras beckoned Jacques to come join them in the sitting room so that he could greet the girls.

The shy mason appeared apprehensive about meeting the girls, but he looked particularly petrified when he was introduced to Justine. It was difficult to miss his rapidly blushing face, as it was almost the precise color as his hair, but somehow Justine managed to do so, as she smiled at him politely and then returned her attention to _Monsieur_ Émile once Jacques had let go of her hand. Éponine, Musichetta, and Gabrielle had most certainly not missed the exchange though and hoped that the mason would not be too disappointed, as he would very soon see for himself how devoted Justine was to _his_ very own teacher.

On her part, Justine's feelings for _Monsieur_ Émile had actually evolved beyond what she considered to be her previously juvenile dreams of him as her prince charming. No, she saw him as more than that now... Like a _leader_ whom she could follow and who was responsible for opening her eyes and developing her views and making her feel _useful_ for the first time in her life, and not just like an unwanted and ignored nuisance, whom her father and brothers would only be too happy to hand off to the first suitor interested in the family. Justine asked _Monsieur_ Émile whether it was possible for them to speak to him now. She did not wish to interrupt his session with the children, but they only had a limited time during this visit, she explained, and she did not know when they could come out here again.

Enjolras thought about it for a minute and decided to ask Joly and Musichetta to take the children to the other room for their recess. Most of the _gamins_ were only too happy to oblige, but Luc lingered behind, seemingly curious as to what these schoolgirls could possibly wish to discuss with the couple, whom he was finding to be more and more curious. He sat down at the dining table and watched the scene unfold with Jacques. The latter, meanwhile, was unsure of what he was supposed to do now, but had elected to go back to his studies. His eyes kept darting once in a while towards Justine though and he was most assuredly unable to concentrate on the books in front of him.

Justine jumped straight into the reason for their visit. Apparently, Enjolras had gotten the girls to read Voltaire, specifically _A Treatise on Toleration_, which dealt with the folly of superstitions and contained arguments for religious tolerance. Joly was the only other person in the apartment who had read it and he would have been extremely surprised that his former leader dared give this piece of work to the schoolgirls _and_ from inside a convent no less. As such, Joly was too busy with the _gamins_ in the other room, so neither Éponine nor the two boys watching from the dining room had immediately realized the implications of what Enjolras had done.

"A few of the girls were quite… _shocked_ when they read this, _Monsieur_ Émile. Can _Monsieur _Voltaire really be suggesting that—" And Justine hesitated before saying the next words in a low voice, "Our Christian faith is _invented_?"

The two boys in the dining room had not failed to hear what she said, partially because they were unwittingly trying to eavesdrop. Her statement certainly pricked their interest even more. It appeared that their teacher had had a relationship with these girls that was highly _unusual_.

Luc found himself becoming even more fascinated with _Monsieur_ Émile. He initially thought of him as an aristocrat who got involved with a street girl, which — in his experience — typically did not turn out well for the latter. But in this case, the man actually _did_ make good on his word and married Éponine, which was possibly why he was cut off by his family and living modestly here. So _that_ was surprising enough for Luc, but it seemed that there was_ even more_ to this nobleman than met the eye.

Could he possibly be a non-believer, telling these girls from that convent over there that their religion was false? That was a new kind of boldness, Luc thought. The _gamin_ knew that _Monsieur_ Rimbaud, for example, was a strong man of God, for which he was thankful, as it likely contributed to the man's generosity towards the street children, but Luc himself, with the life that he'd been given, was not. If God did exist, then he would like to think that the two of them mutually ignored each other. Could _Monsieur_ Émile hold such similar views? Seemingly without realizing it, the boy inched himself closer to the living room, hovering near where the girls and the couple were talking.

Jacques, on his part, was similarly interested in what was being discussed, though for other reasons… So _this_ was why the bookseller said that _the girl_ had changed her taste lately. She used to only request romantic books, for which Jacques had to take the word of the book shop owner, as he could not yet read the list in her note then. But as of late, the man mentioned that whoever this girl was, for whom Jacques was procuring books, had changed her interests so dramatically and advised that she (and _he_) watch out. Apparently, some of the titles were quite… _controversial_, though once again the mason cursed himself for not being good enough yet in his reading to find out for himself. Jacques could never have foreseen that _Monsieur_ Émile was behind the change of heart though. His mother had certainly never mentioned it…

But why would she? Jacques had never made her aware of his… _secret passion_ for the girl in the convent, who really was the reason he was learning to read and write in the first place. Fully realizing that he was being rude, Jacques nevertheless could not stop himself from listening to the conversation in the living room. At the back of his mind, there was a nagging voice telling him that _this_ was his only chance to actually speak to the girl. She would not likely make it a habit, after all, to sneak out of the convent at night. _Monsieur_ Émile must have been quite a teacher for _her_ — for all of them, really — to take the risk of coming here.

Éponine, meanwhile, watched Enjolras explained his reasonings to the girls with a mixture of amazement and amusement. She could never underestimate his nerve. If this piece of work by _Monsieur_ Voltaire described what she thought it did, then Enjolras was stirring a hornet's nest by introducing it to these girls. No, that was perhaps not the most correct analogy, though the nuns might indeed react like attacking hornets if they ever discovered the reading material being passed around right under their collective noses.

No, Enjolras was... throwing a lit match to a small amount of kindling that could very well still burn the whole house down, Éponine thought. From what these girls were saying, it seemed that the number of pupils who were listening to Justine and Gabrielle was growing. They were encountering fearful resistance from some of them, which was not at all surprising, as Éponine imagined it would not be easy hearing that the things that they and the nuns did everyday for the supposed glory of God were perhaps useless and even dangerous superstitions. For most of their lives, these girls had after all been told to follow certain restrictive, religious rules without question, lest God judged and punished them. What would happen now when they were given the opportunity to start questioning these rules, to think for themselves, and to perhaps break the mold?

Enjolras was very careful in his explanation that he was not summarily dismissing religion or proclaiming himself to be anti-Christian or an_ Atheist_, the last of which might still scandalize even these three girls. Instead, he suggested that when the girls get back to their friends, they should present this tract as another way of thinking where _reason_ was put first. He said that the core of the Christian faith, concerning love and charity for one's fellow man, was good, but that it was often obscured and even perverted by an unreasonable devotion to archaic and close-minded superstitions. For example, the fact that the schoolgirls were locked away in a convent, not even allowed to lay eyes on the opposite sex or encounter any other of their fellow citizens, and were educated only to be wives or nuns…

This seemed to resonate with these three girls, who had various reasons for yearning freedom. Nevertheless, they were not sure of what they could do, really, when their parents had the final say on their future, on where they would go after they finished their schooling and who to marry. Justine complained that it was a difficult fate that she and her classmates faced, to have their lives decided for them without any avenue for resistance. If they refused the husband that their parents chose for them, they could simply be shipped off to another convent, and this time permanently as a novice...

It was around this time that Luc was spurred to pipe up, "Excuse me, _Mademoiselle_, but that does not sound like a such terrible life. At least you will not be starving in the streets."

This silenced the room immediately. Justine, in particular, was looking at the _gamin_ with narrowed eyes, "Pardon me, little boy—"

"My name is Luc."

"Well, _Monsieur_ Luc, until you know what it is like to have your parents decide your future, with absolutely no opportunity to escape, I trust you not to judge my life."

"My parents did not care enough to bother with my or my sister's future, or else we would not have ended up in the streets. What future do you suppose we will have, _Mademoiselle _when we are grown and have no money? The best we could hope for is a short life or to be sent to prison, where at least we would be fed."

Justine's expression softened a little, but she still spoke in a strong voice, "I am sorry to hear that, Luc... But I do not think it right for you to minimize our troubles. Being forced into a life in which you have no say is another kind of prison."

"But you will not be starving in yours."

Enjolras felt that he had to intervene before this would break into a fight over who had it the hardest. He had not thought about it before, but the girls and the _gamins_ actually had more in common than they first seemed. They were both restricted as to what they could achieve in their future and both had had to suppress whatever potential they might have due to circumstances. What they both yearned for, in essence, was _independence_. So he told them this, stepping in between Justine and Luc before their argument escalated into a shouting match.

The exchange of words had nevertheless invited the attentions of Joly, Musichetta, and a number of the other _gamins_, who all appeared at the door of the living room to watch the scene.

As Enjolras, Justine, and Luc seemed to be pre-occupied with each other, Gabrielle and Renata decided to break away and took the remaining time to speak with other people. Gabrielle pulled Éponine aside so that they could catch up, while Renata approached Musichetta, whom she thought was extremely attractive. Joly listened to Enjolras speak with the other two for a few minutes and had to shake his head in amusement. Typical of Enjolras… Even when he was away from the center of things, he had managed to plant the seeds of change and attract these unlikely groups of people to him. There would not be a time when Joly was not in complete admiration of Enjolras, he thought. He decided to leave his former leader to do what he loved best and returned to the other room with some of the _gamins_. Two or three of the older children actually stayed behind to watch their chief speak with their teacher and the schoolgirl.

Meanwhile, Gabrielle was telling Éponine about her progress in trying to find a job as a governess, "It has not been easy, because I have been helping Justine hold these clandestine gatherings for some of the other girls, but I have made some enquiries with a few of my classmates who I know have younger siblings. They said that they would write to their parents and let me know. I think there is one in particular who is sympathetic to my plight, though her family lives in Brittany, so I might need to learn Breton if I were to live there."

"Oh, that is a promising development, Gabrielle!"

"Yes, sometimes I cannot believe that I am doing this, but it is exhilarating at the same time," replied the girl with a smile, her eyes shining brightly. "It would help though if I have more experience teaching children. Speaking of which, I think it really is amazing what you and your husband are doing with these _gamins_. I wish I could come here more often so that I could also help out and learn a few things myself about dealing with children."

"Is that at all possible? I shall very like to see you more often of course! How did you manage to sneak out tonight?"

Gabrielle told Éponine quickly of the deal that they had struck with the Morels. "Well, we never did say that this was a one-time outing. And by the look of things, I would hazard to guess that Justine would wish to come back… and often." Indeed, the other girl was still in the middle of a spirited discussion with _Monsieur_ Émile and the boy Luc, though thankfully she and the _gamin_ no longer appeared like they were competing to see whose plight was worse.

In another part of the apartment, specifically in the narrow corridor that connected the living room to the bedroom, Renata was engaging Musichetta in conversation. The former was drawn to the _grisette_ immediately. Not only was she very pretty and fashionable, but she also looked like someone with whom one could chat easily. They started talking about dresses, which turned out to be the perfect topic, given the older girl's profession and the fact that Renata was particularly missing the lovely frocks she used to wear at home. But this was before she was sent away. Now, all she had to wear was this awful uniform.

"Is it only recently then that you are schooled in the convent, _Mademoiselle_?" asked Musichetta.

Renata nodded, "Only since last year. I am afraid I was rather forced to come here."

"Oh? What happened, if you do not mind me asking?"

The girl sighed dramatically, "It is the usual story, _Mademoiselle_. I fell in love with someone I should not."

"I am sorry to hear it," Musichetta replied in sympathy. "Is your lover still in contact at all?"

"No, I have not heard from her ever since I left. But my parents had requested that the nuns monitored my correspondence, so perhaps she has been trying to reach me without success. I miss her very much though, _Mademoiselle_. When one of the nuns confiscated a brooch that belonged to her, I almost went mad with despair. Thankfully, Justine helped me get it back."

Musichetta had not missed the essence of what Renata just told her. She had a feeling that the girl could not impart this information to her classmates at the convent, but for some reason felt safe to share it with the _grisette_. She gave the other girl a smile of understanding, "It is not fair that your parents have locked you up in a religious institution for loving another person."

"Yes, I did not ask to be in love with another girl. She has been my closest friend since childhood, so it did not take much for us to fall in love with each other. I am not even sure if I… _prefer_ women, _Mademoiselle_. I did find _Monsieur_ Émile to be incredibly good-looking when I first saw him, but, well... he rather has _feminine_ features, does he not?"

Suppressing a chuckle at the comment over Enjolras' looks, which was actually rather true, because Musichetta had thought of it too, the _grisette_ contemplated about what she could offer the other girl as advice. "I do not think it matters whether you love a woman or a man, _Mademoiselle_, just as long as you are capable of loving someone. I have never been in love with a woman, but... I have been in love with two men at the same time. Most people would say that it was wrong, but what I felt for them and what we felt for each other was true, so that was the only thing that mattered."

"My religion tells me I am wrong, of course. I think that is my parents' purpose for placing me in the convent. I shall be continually reminded that I am meant to be a wife to a _man_ or a bride to the Church. Anything else is against the will of God. You can see why Justine and Gabrielle's recent revelations appeal greatly to me, though they do not yet know of my reasoning. If I do indeed have a preference for girls, I wonder if it crosses my parents' minds that placing me in a school with only women for company may not be the _best_ idea."

"It is indeed a little bit ironic, no?"

While these girls continued their talk, another pair of girls were wrapping up theirs. Gabrielle and Éponine still wished to chat, but they were distracted by Jacques nearby, who kept staring at the living room, seemingly gathering up the courage to come over and speak to Justine. The latter, however, only had eyes for the two boys with whom she was still in deep discussion.

"Typical of Justine," said Gabrielle in a low voice. "She dreamed constantly about being adored by a handsome man and yet when it happens, she fails to notice it completely."

"Poor Jacques. He might have picked the precisely wrong person at the most inopportune time to set his eyes on. And he is already so shy too," whispered Éponine back.

"There is no hope in alerting Justine now. Not without calling attention to the _Monsieur_ and embarrassing him most thoroughly." Gabrielle appeared to be contemplating something, "Do you think I should speak to him? Perhaps I can get a message to her for him. Would that not be romantic?"

"That is very kind of you, Gabrielle," replied Éponine. "Yes, perhaps do so. Be gentle though. He does not seem like he talks to many women, so do not scare him."

"I do not talk to a lot of men either, _Madame_, so what can he possibly fear from me?"

Éponine watched Gabrielle approach Jacques, whose expression shifted quickly from curiosity to panic the closer she got. The girl took the seat that Luc vacated earlier and greeted him with a friendly smile. Deciding to let the two be, Éponine walked to the bedroom to check on the children, passing Musichetta and Renata having what appeared to be a curiously intimate conversation.

Back in the dining room, Gabrielle was peeking at the pages and papers in front of Jacques. He really had not written anything on his notebook ever since the three girls walked in.

"May I ask what you are working on, _Monsieur_?" asked Gabrielle.

Jacques felt his face growing hot again. This girl was not the object of his affection, but the way her big eyes were looking at him was making him feel nevertheless nervous. He stammered his answer slightly, "I am trying to write these sentences, _Mademoiselle_."

"Are you attempting to compose a letter, _Monsieur_? Forgive me, I do not mean to pry, but these phrases that you are practicing are ones typically found in correspondence."

The mason looked at her in surprise, "Yes… I asked _Monsieur_ Émile for some common expressions I can use."

"I see…" Gabrielle said quietly. An idea formed in her mind, but did she dare ask it? Nothing spurred her more than a potentially romantic story though. She gathered her nerve and said, "Could you possibly wish to write a letter for Justine?"

Because the _Monsieur_ was looking at her with his eyes wide and a thoroughly blushing face, Gabrielle spoke again before she lost her courage, "I beg your pardon once more, _Monsieur_, I do not mean to embarrass you. But I could not fail to notice that you… showed an interest earlier towards my friend. I am afraid she can be rather _singular_ in her focus, but perhaps if you'd like, I can help you write her a note, which I can then pass on to her later?"

Jacques was at a lost for words. He was mortified that he was being completely obvious in his interest, but at the same time, he was also taken aback by this girl's demeanor. Granted, he had never met _any_ upper class young ladies, really, but he did not expect them to be so… _friendly_. Finally, he managed to ask, "Wh— Why would you help me, _Mademoiselle_?"

Gabrielle replied with a smile, "Because I adore romance. I hope you do not mind me saying so, but I think it is extremely _romantic_ the way you seem to have fallen in love with her at first sight. You have not taken your eyes off her ever since we came in."

"It is not the first time that I have seen her, actually, _Mademoiselle_," said Jacques in a quiet voice.

"Oh?"

He could not believe that he was about to share this with a stranger, when he could barely confide his feelings to his closest friends and family, but the girl had a way about her that made him comfortable in telling her. "I saw her once when I was picking up some things from my mother at the convent gate. She rushed in from behind my mother and handed her a note. The gate was only open slightly, so I did not think she could see me, but before she turned and left, she caught my eye and gave me a smile."

Gabrielle felt a swooping sensation in her stomach. _Oh, that is so romantic!_ Justine really was so lucky and she had not even realized it! Despite this smile that the man claimed he saw, it did not seem that her friend remembered him at all. Or perhaps now that _Monsieur_ Émile had come into her life, she could not see anyone else. Gabrielle was suddenly reminded of _Madame_ Éponine's jest about the little planet revolving around the sun god Apollo. Oh, how she wished Justine would look elsewhere... Because this _Monsieur_ Jacques seemed to be a decent and romantic man. Speaking of whom, he was still talking, so Gabrielle turned her attention back to what he was saying.

"— I figured she is the one who has been requesting books through my mother. I am not sure if you know this about your friend, _Mademoiselle_, but she has been sneaking books into the convent. She would give the list with some money to my mother, who would then pass them on to me, so that I could take it to the book store nearby my work. At the start, I did not give it a second thought, as I could not read the list and had never been interested in books anyway. But the bookseller kept giving me odd looks every time I came in and one day he finally remarked that I must have a very well-read, romantic girl and that it was sweet of me to keep buying her books. It was unusual for a young pair of sweethearts to court through books these days, he said, and he asked if I would like him to recommend some other romantic works? I respectfully declined of course, but I never corrected his assumption, and ever since then, I could not get the idea of this girl out of my head. I started becoming more interested in her books, wishing that I could read them and find out what they say. And I also felt happy that I could get them for her. For the first time in my life, I want to be able to read and write. Thankfully, _Monsieur_ Émile finally agreed to tutor me. I've been hoping that I can learn quick enough so that I can write her a letter to tell her of my feelings. Perhaps, I thought, I could slip it into one of her books… though I think her taste has changed lately to not be so romantic. Here is her last list—" And he produced a small piece of paper and showed it to the girl, "I keep every one that she wrote, _Mademoiselle_. She really has a lovely handwriting. I cannot read every word in this list, but these do not seem like romantic books."

Gabrielle's heart was beating very loudly. It had been so throughout the _Monsieur_'s speech, but she did not say anything because her mouth was dry and her head felt light, as if she was close to fainting.

He had been talking about _her_ and not Justine! He just had not realized it. She reached for the piece of paper with trembling fingers and and said as if in a daze, "This is my handwriting."

Jacques snapped his head up to look at her, "What?"

Gabrielle felt weak, but she could not back out of it now and _not_ tell him. Hoping to channel Justine's boldness, she spoke in a steadier voice than she thought possible, "This is my handwriting. All of it, in fact. The girl that you are describing, _Monsieur_… It is me. It has always been my list that you were taking to the bookseller's. Justine does have a romantic taste, but she tends to fixate on one story for many months, whereas I like to read many. And she does not know book titles like I do, so she relies on me to come up with the selection. When you saw her at the gate, it must have been when I asked her to pass on the list to _Madame_ Morel. Perhaps I was preoccupied somewhere…"

She trailed off then, because she was unsure of what else to say. What did this mean? Was it too late? Was he already in love with Justine because he saw her _first_? But everything else he said was referring to herself, so could he really like her _instead_? If he had gone through with his love letter plan, it was _she_ and not Justine who would have received it, though in his head, he would have imagined Justine reading it. The question was, in the image of this girl that he liked, did he favor her appearance or her personality? Could he divorce the two? He did say that he liked her before he mistakenly found out what she looked like. It was confusing and exhilarating all at once.

If Jacques thought that he was going red before, there was no comparison to how he felt now. He felt unsteady, as if his world had been upturned. He had been operating under the assumption that his dream girl was the one whose name he found out tonight to be Justine. Instead, it was she, Gabrielle, who was sitting in front of him. He had just unknowingly shared his deepest passion for a girl right to her face. How was he to react?

"I suppose—" Gabrielle began tentatively. He still seemed too shocked to say anything, but she could no longer bear the uncomfortable silence, "I suppose I should thank you, _Monsieur_, for getting those books for me and for saying that I have a lovely handwriting. That is quite flattering… I do not know if you still wish to write a note to Justine—"

"No… No, I do not think I will."

Both stopped talking again for a while, but then it was Jacques who finally piped up in a low voice, "I thought she was you... That letter would have been meant for you."

Gabrielle glanced at him with a soft smile, "Do you mean it?"

"Yes." He nervously returned her smile. Their hands were quite close to each other, but Jacques dared not yet touch hers.

"Will you— Will you write to me then? When you feel comfortable with your writing, that is. You can slip it into one of the books, like you had planned. I will write to you as well, if you would like... I can pass it on through your mother. She will not know what it says."

"I would like that very much."

At the same time that things unfolded for Jacques and Gabrielle, Éponine came in to the bedroom to see _Monsieur_ Joly sitting on the ground with his back against the foot of the bed. Several of the _gamins_ had gotten his satchel open and were playing with his medical instruments, while another was perched on the one chair in the room, scribbling something on the desk.

"Why are you sitting there, _Monsieur_? Why not take a seat on the bed?" asked Éponine.

"Oh, I do not want to get your bed dirty, Éponine. You should always sleep with a clean body on a clean bed. It is your place of rest and relaxation, so think of it as a sanctuary or a temple."

"I shall keep that in mind."

"Plus, I wanted to keep an eye on these rascals, make sure they do not hurt themselves playing with those tools," Joly said, indicating the children giggling away in front of him.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

"No at all, please. But do you not worry that you will get your dress dirty?"

"It is only a dress, _Monsieur_. I will change for bed and wash it tomorrow."

Éponine took a seat next to Joly and they talked for a while about the state of the street urchins. While Enjolras tended to be quite formal and direct with the children, which made him rather effective as a teacher, Éponine noticed that Joly looked more natural around them. Though he showed concern over every scrape, cut, and bruise, he also interacted with them in a more casual way, making them feel at ease with his presence and diagnosis. And these were children who would not have seen many caring touches from the adults around them, so the fact that they trusted him to provide them with medical care was quite a feat, Éponine thought.

"You really do have a way with these _gamins_, _Monsieur_. I hope you do not mind me saying so, but I think you will make a wonderful father one day when you and Musichetta decide to have children."

Joly looked at her in surprise, "Did Musichetta mention—"

Éponine laughed, "No, no… Forgive me, I was being too forward. No, Musichetta has not mentioned anything about having a child. I just assumed… The two of you seem quite deeply in love with each other, _Monsieur_, that I surmised that you might want to start a family of your own soon."

"Yes, that is true, isn't it?" said Joly, staring ahead with a wistful smile. "I do love her very much. And feel free to tell her I told you so. I cannot have too much credit in my books, I suppose."

They chuckled a little bit at that. Then something seemed to occur to Joly and he looked at her with as serious an expression as he could muster, "Now, Éponine, I am going to tell you something, but you must keep _this_ to yourself. Do you promise?"

"Of course, _Monsieur_."

"This may not come as a surprise to you, but—" And he paused here, looking all around him to make sure he could not be overheard and then leaning in to whisper in Éponine's ear, "I am planning on asking Musichetta to marry me."

Éponine had on the widest smile, "Oh that is fantastic news, _Monsieur_! Congratulations! When do you plan on doing it?"

"I will ask her to go home with me this Christmas. I shall like her to meet my family. Hopefully she will like them. There is no doubt in my mind that they will adore her — I mean, is there anyone she cannot win over? I have also met her father and he is a nice enough man, considering. I suppose most fathers would be wary of their daughter's suitor, would they not? But he has given me his blessing to ask for her hand, so I am simply waiting for the perfect moment and venue. There is this garden with a small pond in my family home. I used to take many walks there when I was younger. It never fails to calm my nerves, so I think I shall do it there. The flowers will unfortunately not be blooming in December, but the snow will nevertheless make it look beautiful. What do you think?"

"I think that sounds completely wonderful, _Monsieur_. It will be so romantic. Musichetta will love it."

"She will say yes then, in your opinion?"

"Do you need to ask? Of course she will!"

"Oh! And you and Enjolras might be there as well to join in on our celebration. I do not know if he has told you, but I have invited him to come stay with my family. I think it will be better than if the two of you lived on the lam somewhere uncertain. I, for one, shall rest better knowing that you and he are safely ensconced in my home. And my parents will be happy to have the both of you. They are quite modern, so you do not even need to act married if you do not wish to."

Éponine was quiet for a while, considering the offer, "Enjolras has not told me, but that is very generous of you, _Monsieur_, and of your family. I am very grateful."

"It is the least I can do. I owe my life to you after all."

"What do you mean? _I_ owe my life to _you_, _Monsieur. _You fixed my wounds and brought me back."

"No, I have thought about this a lot. If it were not for you, Éponine, if Combeferre and I did not need to transport you away from the fighting, we would not have gotten out of the barricade that night. It saddens me to think that we did not fight beside our friends in their last moments, that if not for the random hand of fate, we were saved and they were lost. But this is the opportunity that I have been given, so I can only accept it and live on. And I do not regret surviving, if only because I can now experience this life with Musichetta."

"That is… a hopeful outlook on the situation, _Monsieur_."

"And you saved Enjolras' life most of all, Éponine. Physically, he survived because of what Grantaire did — I suppose you already know — and also because Combeferre and I managed to come back and collect him in time. But more than anything, I think you saved him mentally and emotionally. Granted, I have not known him as long as Combeferre has, but I have never seen him this happy or this settled before you came into his life."

Éponine was a bit lost for words, but finally replied earnestly, "Thank you for saying so, _Monsieur_. I really appreciate it." Then she finally asked the question that had been burning in her mind, "What was he like before? I must admit that I did not pay much attention to him when I was around all of you. I was… otherwise preoccupied."

"He was… singularly focused. Brilliant speaker, fiery. He made you feel his rage and righteous indignation at all the injustices that are plaguing our country. You would want to follow him anywhere and fight for him because you'd wish to do him proud. And he _cared _greatly about the people for whom he was fighting, though he did not often show it. That was one thing that concerned me about him, that he felt entirely responsible for changing things for everyone, and yet he suppressed the part of him that was human, that might wish to form _personal_ relationships. I think he was afraid that it might stop him from dedicating his life fully to his cause."

Éponine listened quietly, not entirely surprised by what she was hearing. If she thought back to the few rare times that Enjolras had actually crossed her mind before the barricade, she remembered seeing him as this God-like figure, who was filled to the brim with inspiring rhetoric, but who also appeared untouchable and not impacted by the real, individual sufferings that were around him. It seemed unfair, now that she had actually gotten to know him, so she was thankful to have been given the chance to correct her views.

"This is why I am glad that he has you in his life, Éponine," remarked Joly kindly, as she had not said anything for a while. "You have not changed him completely, if the scene I witnessed tonight was an indication, but I think you have _improved_ him. You have shown him that he could have personal relationships, with you, with the children, with those convent girls, and still help each of you individually. He may not reach as many people as he used to, but I think the lives that he does affect would not consider his impact insignificant. I think it is very important that he understands this, lest he craves a return to his old life. Somehow, I doubt it though, now that you are with him."

Éponine was blushing most thoroughly, "Do you really think so? Thank you, _Monsieur_. I really do not know what else to say, except that I am grateful for your sentiments."

"Yes. In fact, I hope that when I get engaged with Musichetta, he will take it as inspiration and follow suit. Oh, if only our friends could have witnessed this development with Enjolras, but alas…"

They had to finish their talk on that note, as Musichetta entered the bedroom then and informed them that the schoolgirls were leaving.

They all said their goodbyes promptly, as _Monsieur_ Morel was waiting anxiously in the doorway. It was almost time for lights out at the dormitory, so the man was keen to get them all back. Justine was whispering rapidly to Enjolras and also Luc, promising that she would find a way to come visit again soon. Éponine noticed Gabrielle and Jacques exchanging a glance that was… _interesting_. And he was no longer looking longingly at Justine.

After the girls had left, Enjolras tried to return the _gamins_ to the lesson at hand, but it seemed that Luc was much too wired from the talk with his teacher and Justine that he wanted to ask some more questions. Jacques and a few of the other urchins were similarly intrigued. If the _Monsieur_ was arguing for independent thought and a free future for these upper class girls, what about the street children and the other impoverished? Or the working class, for that matter? How would they fit in this 'Republic' that the _Monsieur_ was advocating?

Enjolras immediately caught Joly's eyes, as the situation was certainly familiar to the both of them, though the audience was slightly different. He then looked at Éponine, who gave him an encouraging smile. _He really was the sun, _Éponine thought. _People could not help but be drawn to him, to the light and the warmth presented in his vision of the world_.

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**Author's Notes: **Boy, I haven't done a scene with this many characters since Chapter 2. I think there were 9 x POVs to explore (10 if you include _Madame _Morel). I know that most are OCs, but hopefully you found it interesting anyway, since some were thinking about E and É. One purpose for these OCs is to show how lives are changed by the fact that Enjolras and Éponine (and Joly and Combeferre) survived. I also want to demonstrate, through Enjolras, in particular, that it is okay that he cannot save everybody, that sometimes making a difference in individual lives is not any less significant.

Renata's story is inspired by the tale of Julie d'Aubigny, a 17th century swordswoman, opera singer, and all around bad-ass, whose female lover was sent to a convent by her parents. d'Aubigny went on to rescue her in such a fantastic way. Google it. Fascinating stuff.

A few of my readers commented that they hoped Jacques was looking at Gabrielle. Well, he wasn't, really, but I had planned on it going down this way. Haha, I love pushing characters into awkward moments. You can also see why I partially named Jacques after Eddie Redmayne's Jack in _The Pillars of the Earth _(it seems like Redmayne has a habit of falling in love with girls at first sight). As for Justine, just to let you know that I have never intended her to be a love interest for Enjolras or competition for Éponine. Instead, I think she has found in Enjolras a kindred spirit, like he's someone in whom she can believe and follow.

I've been wanting to do a Joly/Éponine scene for a while now. I'd like someone who knew Enjolras from before to remark just how much Éponine has impacted him, how she's made him a better man. I know that the E/É ship has been accused of misogyny, because Enjolras is often portrayed as saving Éponine and then equating her to his patria. While I don't always see that as wrong, I think it's more interesting to interpret their relationship as them equally helping each other, which is hopefully how it comes across in my fic. They are learning so much from each other. From the outside, it may appear that Enjolras is this kind, generous aristocrat helping the street girl to learn, but really, Éponine is also helping him to love and to learn that it is okay for him to fall in love with someone and to want to have a life with them.

I know that there wasn't an outright Enjolras/Éponine scene, but I am fairly certain that the next chapter will contain a decent one. I wanted it to go at the end of this chapter, but, well, this one is so long already! As always, please let me know what you think if you can. Reviews are like the fuel that keeps me going. Otherwise, feel free to PM, follow, favorite. Thanks!


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer: **_Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes:** The update notification email did not get sent with my last chapter, which was updated around Saturday (damn you, ffnet), so check to see whether you have read the previous chapter, because the start of this chapter will not make sense without it.

Thank you for the comments about liking the OCs, I really appreciate it, since I put in a bit of work to come up with background stories and characteristics that would hopefully make them interesting.

WARNING: This chapter contains MAJOR Enjolras/Éponine fluff. I felt like getting a toothache (or just making a face) while I wrote it. I'm more of an awkward-romantic-tension-comedy writer, but hope you enjoy this anyway!

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**Chapter 32**

Between the lessons in the morning and the evening, which both now stretched to mid-afternoon and late night respectively as a result of the increased number of students who were attending his classes, Enjolras did not have a lot of free time anymore, much less alone. But one late afternoon, he found himself without company, sitting with papers all around him, trying to prepare thoroughly for tonight's gathering.

Ever since the night that the schoolgirls appeared, the evening session had evolved to become more like a discussion time. Luc would bring in other _gamins_ interested in what Enjolras had to say and let other children who still wished to learn reading and writing to come to the morning lesson. The two groups, however, were not mutually exclusive, as the more the urchins listened to Enjolras talk about the importance of education, the more they wished to be literate. As such, Enjolras had had to split the morning lesson into two classes, which was why he was not often finished until mid to late afternoon.

Jacques, who was back to being his sole remaining student in the evening, was initially entirely focused on his own learning, but had eventually become interested in the ideas that Enjolras was proposing as well. He even asked last night whether it was fine if he got a few of his fellow masons to come along and hear the _Monsieur_ speak, as the latter had very interesting things to say about workers. The schoolgirls had also sent word that they would sneak out again tonight.

And so it seemed that Enjolras had somehow found himself holding court over a full house once more. It was an odd and thoroughly familiar feeling, which was exhilarating all at the same time. Still, he found his oratory skills rather rusty, so he decided to start researching and preparing his talks ahead of time.

Éponine walked in then to see him sitting on the ground surrounded by open books, papers, and pens, as if a library had exploded with him at the epicenter. She had been out since lunchtime to do the day's errands. He had elected not to come with her, as he had had a few things he needed to finalize before their guests arrived tonight.

"What is this sudden craze with sitting on the ground?" said Éponine, recalling how she found _Monsieur_ Joly in the exact same spot a few nights ago. Like how it was then, she sat down next to him, though at a decidedly closer distance, with their sides touching, her right hand splayed casually on his left thigh.

Enjolras took her hand as if by instinct and then reached over to kiss her on the side of the head, "The desk is too small for all this material. Why _not_ make use of the floor?"

"You have had a fun afternoon then?"

"Oh yes, most productive. I think I have come up with something really good for tonight. Here," He handed her a piece of paper with writing all over it. "Would you mind reading it and tell me what you think?"

"Of course," she replied with a smile. Enjolras' handwriting was not the easiest to decipher — it was as if made by a hand that could not be quick enough to capture all that the mind had wanted to say — but Éponine was used to it by now. She held the page with her left hand, as her other one was still held by Enjolras, and leaned her head against his shoulder while she read.

"How was your afternoon?"

"Tiring," she replied with a voice that indicated that it indeed was. "I do not know why the weather is still so hot. It is already September. It makes me quite weary. My head aches."

Enjolras looked down at the top of her head on his side. It was likely his fault. He was keeping her up at night, talking until all hours. Usually, when she had had enough of it and wanted to go to sleep, she would lean over and kiss him most thoroughly. It proved to be the most effective way of quieting him, as he would no longer be able to concentrate on anything else when Éponine had her lips on him like that. He wondered if he subconsciously chattered on to prompt her to do so. He certainly _liked_ it when Éponine took charge…

Lately, though, she had been indulging him, staying up with him until the dead of night. She possibly noticed how enlivened he was by the discussions held just hours before and realized that he needed an outlet to channel his energy before he could sufficiently rest.

Well, if it was his fault that she was so tired, then it was up to him to make her feel better. He let go of her hand so that he could put his arm around her shoulder.

"Do you want to lie down together? We have some time before everybody starts to arrive."

Éponine leaned into him, but shook her head.

"Why not?"

"Well my clothes are dirty and _Monsieur_ Joly said we need to keep our bed clean, because it is our place of rest and relaxation. He also said something about a temple."

Enjolras laughed a little at that, "Joly has many of those sayings. You do not always have to listen to him."

"Yes, but I do not feel like lying down anyway. I shall want to sleep otherwise and we have to be ready in an hour."

He suddenly had an idea, "How about this? Come here and sit against me." He could not move his right leg, obviously, but he bent his left one at the knee, telling her to sit in between his legs and lean back against him.

Éponine raised her eyebrows at him, "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

So she did as he requested, settling back against him. His lips were near her right ear, so she felt his breath when he spoke, "Now, you said your head hurts?"

She nodded in response, feeling quite curious that he was being very affectionate… Not that she had any objections.

He asked her to slide down slightly, so that her head could rest on his chest. He then started massaging her scalp lightly, using the pads of his fingers to place a light pressure on her temples and above her brows.

Éponine sighed in contentment and leaned back into him further, "Where did you learn to do this?"

"From you. You did the same thing for me on our first night here. Remember?"

"Oh yes. I keep forgetting that you are such an _astute_ student."

"Astute, huh?" chuckled Enjolras, finding it endearing when she threw his term back at him. "Well, it helps that I have an excellent teacher. Do you feel better?"

"Yes, though I do not want to be _too_ relaxed. I still want to finish reading your speech, after all. It is very good so far. I really like it."

She indeed still had the piece of paper in her hand. Enjolras felt a rush of affection towards her. She had been so supportive throughout everything that had happened this past week. In the morning, she would help him with whatever he needed for his classes, for example by keeping the children in line and answering their questions when he was preoccupied. In the afternoon, she would offer her opinions on his material and let him bounce ideas off her when he was preparing for the evening session.

… Like what she was doing right this minute, in fact, as Éponine had just finished reading his draft and was suggesting various parts upon which he could further elaborate or cut altogether. Enjolras highly valued her input, as she had good, practical instincts and would candidly tell him when his rhetoric was too lofty or might not translate to real application. Even when she was tired like now, she still gave it her full attention and, as a result, was able to improve his speech, making it more accessible to a wider audience.

Later on, during the actual discussion time, she served as his emotional support, as he found himself glancing at her before and in the midst of his speeches. Throughout his life, he had never needed anyone's validation to do anything that he had set his heart out to do, so it was not that he was looking for Éponine's approval, not precisely. No, it was more than that… Every time he saw her smile at him encouragingly, her eyes lighting up just for him, he felt himself feeling emboldened, like he was doing her proud, like he was _worthy_ of her.

And she did all of these on top of other tasks — like cooking and cleaning and shopping and various errands — that she had been doing for him ever since that first day they were left alone in Joly's house. Enjolras genuinely believed in the equality between the sexes, so he had never once thought that it was Éponine's duty to do those things for him. Instead, he had in fact been feeling guilty that he had not been able to share the workload and vowed that once he was on his own two feet again, he would help _her_ out more, perhaps even take care of _her_ for a change.

Such as at the moment. Hopefully, he was making her feel better. They had finished reviewing the speech, so she'd placed the paper aside and gotten him to put his left arm around her waist. She was just quietly sitting there though, tracing the skin of his arm slowly with her fingers. His right hand was still gently caressing the side of her face, using his knuckles to draw circles lightly on her cheek. He then pushed aside her hair, so that he could place a featherlight kiss on her shoulder and on the side of her neck. As always, he found that she smelled _very good_.

Éponine sighed again, "Can we stay like this for a while? We won't be able to see the sunset from this angle, but I do not mind. I just want to enjoy this time with you."

"All right," he smiled to her hair. He wrapped his other arm around her as well, his hand covering hers. He liked how he could just be with Éponine like this, without feeling the need to fill the silence with conversation. He would never grow tired of holding her in his arms, he thought. She was so soft in all the places where his own body was taut. And he was not even thinking _pornographic_ thoughts then. He simply enjoyed the… contrast between their two bodies.

He also liked how her skin was so smooth, _everywhere_, it seemed... except for one part. His thumb was rubbing the skin on the underside of her right hand, over her right palm, where he felt these grooves, which — he quickly realized — came from being burned by the muzzle of that riffle at the barricade...

It was remarkably brave what she did, he thought. The memory of that night came flooding back to him, especially those moments after she had just been shot. He recalled being struck by the general kind of grief that one felt when somebody so young was robbed of their life, but he did not remember feeling any particular sense of _loss_ at seeing her bloodied and seemingly lifeless. He had not known her then, after all. And yet, if it were not for that wound, if she had not decided to sacrifice her life for Marius and he did not decide to send her away, would the two of them have ever gotten to know each other? Would they have had a chance to grow well together, like they had done, and to finally be here _right now_, wrapped up in each other? The thought that, in another life, they would not have known each other at all filled him with _despair_.

He brought her hand up to his lips, softly kissing the marked skin there. This scar was her battle wound, a reminder of what she— what _they_ had lived through, and it made him even more—

And he did not really think through what he said next. It just sort of came out, "Do you know, Éponine? I think I may have fallen in love with you."

"I know," she replied quietly, though her heart felt like bursting. She turned in his hold, kneeling before him, her arms going around his neck. She looked down on him with a smile, "I think I might have known for a while."

"How did you work it out?"

"It is the look on your face. That night I first kissed you in the garden. Suffice to say I took you by _complete _surprise, Enjolras, but you had this _look_ afterwards… Do you know what it reminded me?"

When he shook her head, she continued, "It was the same look Marius had on his face whenever he talked about Cosette. It used to cause me a great deal of pain, because I did not think that he — or anyone, really — would _ever_ look at me that way… But then, there you were."

"Yes, it seems that I have been falling in love with you for a while now."

He was looking up at her with an unguarded, almost vulnerable expression, as if he was offering up his most prized possession to her, which, she supposed, he really was. She beamed down at him, "I am in love with you too, Enjolras."

He let go a deep breath, like he had been waiting for her to make his world right or tear it asunder. She felt rather amused that he could doubt her love, when she had not been holding herself back, really, to show him how she felt, though it was true that she had never said those words before now. She pulled him in for another kiss. They took their time, lips molding to each other, hands caressing each other's cheeks, neck, shoulders…

When they broke apart, he saw the happiness in her face, in the way her eyes were looking at him with complete trust. His conscience was nagging at him, because there was one significant thing that he still had not told her. If this was _real_ now, if they were going to be together for the long haul, then he needed to be thoroughly honest with her.

"I have to tell you something, Éponine."

"What is it?" She turned to sit in between his legs again with her back against his chest.

He circled his arms around her, his head coming in from behind her right shoulder, their cheeks brushing, "I should have told you earlier, but I did not know how, so I apologize… My father worked out that I have been lying to him for a while now and has finally come to Paris. He is looking for me at the moment."

Éponine was quiet for a bit, considering the news, "He knows then about your fugitive status?"

"Yes, he is none too thrilled, I would imagine. He sent a message through Combeferre that he wants to take me home."

"Will he hide you from the authorities?" And then something clicked for Éponine, "Or does he know a way to make the warrant disappear?

"I am not sure," Enjolras replied quietly. "It is perhaps the latter."

"What do you wish to do?"

"Well… I certainly do not want to go home with him, regardless of whether or not he can vacate the warrant. Even if he could, I do not think it fair that I will be able to wash my hands clean of my involvement at the barricade, free to walk away, when many other fellow fighters are still facing trials, imprisonment, or perhaps even execution. And if he does do this for me, he will demand something in return, something I will _not_ be able to give up."

"Your revolutionary ambitions?"

He blinked in surprise, "Well, yes, to an extent. But I was actually thinking more along the lines of… _you_, actually, Éponine."

"Oh." She did not say anything more straight away, but she tightened the hold on his arms. "But if you can be _free_ again…"

"Not at the cost of you."

"Perhaps you can discuss it with your father? To be honest, I do not wish to give you up either, Enjolras, but… I do not want you to be in hiding for the rest of your life because of me. You know first-hand how tough a life _Monsieur_ Valjean has held, for example."

"At best, my father will suggest that I keep you as a mistress and let he and my mother arrange a match with a girl from the _beau monde_," He said the last words with a sneer, as if it was an insult to be identified as belonging to that part of that world. "No, I will not let you suffer through the indignity of becoming a mistress."

_Does this mean he wants to marry me one day?_ Éponine could not stop the thought that came to her mind. Her heart was beating very fast, but she tried to keep her voice steady, "If given the choice, I would not wish to be one, of course, but are you sure that this is the path that you wish to take? Perhaps a little… sacrifice is necessary for you to live the life that you are meant to live."

He placed a hand gently on her cheek and turned her head towards him, "But that is not the life that I am meant to live, Éponine. I do not think it fair if I make you believe that you are the sole reason I am refusing to see my father. No, I'm afraid that I am still rather selfish… Because what you said earlier was correct as well, that I cannot let my father dictate that I give up my revolutionary ambitions. Perhaps, I am greedy, but I would like to have both: I wish to be with you _and_ still be able to make my contribution to this society. In all likelihood, I will never again stand atop a barricade, leading a revolutionary charge, but I think what I— what _we_ have right now is also worthwhile. I must admit that it is rather rewarding being able to pass my knowledge on to others and to have these discussions with many different people again, but it is all made even better because _you_ are there with me, Éponine. _This_ is the life that I am meant to live. To be able to do _this_ is my freedom."

Éponine twisted in his hold again and closed the distance between their lips, trying to convey how much she loved him. When they broke apart, she caressed his cheek and said, "If you are certain that this is what you want, then I will be there beside you. I just do not wish to see you one day regret this decision to break contact with your parents. Granted, I do not know them or their views on your future, but they sound like they _love_ you, above all. Can you really let yourself disappear from their lives forever?"

"No, not forever," he began slowly. "Just until it is… too late for them to do anything about my choices." He looked her in the eyes, hoping she caught his meaning. Even his parents could not separate a man and his wife, after all. _Especially_ if said wife had given birth to a child who would bear the family name that was so sacred for them… The only reason he had not gone ahead and proposed to Éponine right now was because he did not wish her to be carried away by the mood, given that they had just confessed their love for each other, and be compelled to accept. He wanted to give her some time to make sure that attaching herself to him was really what she really wanted. As she said, living a life like Jean Valjean would not be easy. Though it would pain him to be parted from her, he would not wish to drag her down with him to live in the shadows when she was still so young and free to pursue opportunities, such as the one Combeferre offered.

Éponine seemed to understand what he was saying and did not prompt him to elaborate further. Instead, she just nodded and said, "So what is the plan? Do you wish to stay here for a while after your cast has come off? Or would you still like to travel? _Monsieur_ Joly mentioned that we are welcomed to stay with his family."

Enjolras nodded, "He told you then. What do you think? Joly is from Marseille. His father was in fact one of the volunteers who marched on Paris during the Revolution and sang _La Marseillaise_. Joly is very proud of that fact. Have you been there?"

"No, I have not gone out of Paris, I am afraid. I think it is very generous of _Monsieur_ Joly to let us take refuge in his home. It is certainly a good option for a place to go."

"Yes, and I am inclined to take it. However… I have also been thinking that I cannot just leave suddenly and abandon the _gamins_ and the schoolgirls. I feel somewhat responsible for them now."

"I agree to an extent, Enjolras. For you to help them fully, you will need to be a constant fixture in their lives. With that said though, one thing I do notice about learning is that, once an idea takes hold, it changes you and makes you more likely to spread it to others. So I suppose what I am saying is that you may not need to be here permanently for you to have a lasting impact in their lives. The ideas that you have passed on to them will continue to be spread to other people that _they _know and so on… Because you also have to keep in mind that the longer you stay in Paris, the more likely you are to be discovered."

"That is true. How about this? Joly will come on Saturday to _finally_ get this cast off. It will take me time to be able to walk on my own two feet properly again, which is the state I would prefer to be if I were to travel a great distance. So what do say you if we leave at that point? I will perhaps need to tell some of them ahead of time though, like Justine, Luc, and Jacques. And also Jean Valjean."

"I think that is fair." She then circled her arms around his neck and said with a huge smile, "I am also very excited about you getting your cast removed…"

"Oh yes. I can finally start doing more things on my own. You should know that I'd like to start sharing the workload. Wherever we end up, I want to help you with day-to-day tasks. It has been bothering me that I have been sitting idly while you run around doing everything for me."

Éponine looked at him with surprise, but dismissed his concern, "It does not bother me. You are injured after all. Besides, I like doing things for you." She then gave him a mischievous expression, "But that is not what I meant. The cast coming off means that you can start becoming fit again…"

It took Enjolras only a second to grasp her meaning. He felt suddenly nervous, "Yes, well, we have been waiting a while for that, have we not? I am not quite sure what to— That is to say, you do not expect me to— uh, straight away?"

Éponine found it rather adorable to see him flustered like this. It was flattering to think that _she_ was able to make this man, who was like a God when he spoke in front of a crowd, to blush and lose his words. She decided to take pity on him, "I will continue to wait until you are comfortable, Enjolras, but I must say that I am eager for us to… take the step forward."

Enjolras was still looking quite red and was somewhat avoiding her eye, "It might take me a while, Éponine. And when it happens— Well, you know my background in this matter. I just do not want you to be… _disappointed_."

"I do not think that is possible, because, to be completely truthful, my experience in this matter has not been entirely… _pleasant_. We love each other, no? I think that will count for something." Something worrying seemed to occur to her though, as her face became clouded, "Unless… You _do_ want to make love to me, don't you, Enjolras? You should tell me if you do not desire me that way."

Éponine was taken by surprise when he suddenly pulled her close, gripping the sides of her body, his fingers molding themselves to the ribs on her back and his thumbs brushing slightly against the underside of her breasts. It was the most daring that he'd ever touched her. "_Of course_ I desire you, Éponine. I desire you very much, in fact."

"Can you blame me for asking? Given the opportunity, most men would rush to bed their lovers, but then again, I suppose you are not most men… And you once said yourself that you have never been and will never be romantically interested in anyone."

"That has not changed to an extent. I still cannot imagine myself being attracted to any other women. _Just you_."

That sent a thrill down her spine. Éponine often wondered what precisely made her so special to him, but felt nevertheless happy that she finally had someone who loved her. It was all she ever wanted in life. She gave him a bright smile before capturing his lips again. The kiss was passionate straight away, their mouths connecting at a furious pace, their tongues battling. Her hands were on the back of his neck, pulling at his hair slightly, while his were still on her sides, his thumbs brushing again on the same spot. She wanted to move his hands further up, but decided to let him figure _this_ out on his own.

When they broke apart, they were both flushed and breathless. "Are you sure you do not wish to make love to me now?" Éponine said, her nose touching his.

He took a moment to calm his breath. There was a small hint of frustration in his voice when he finally answered, "We do not have time, unfortunately. Our guests shall be arriving soon."

Éponine sighed but relented. She reached into his pocket and pulled out a watch, "If I have to guess, we possibly only have five or ten minutes before they are here." She kissed him on the nose, "Use the time to calm yourself down, Enjolras. You are looking rather red."

Enjolras chuckled and watched her rise, brushing off the dirt on her dress. She offered a hand to help him up, but when he was finally standing, she did not get the crutch for him immediately, as she normally did. Instead, she supported him with her hands on his sides, like how he just held her, and then looked up at him with a mischievous smile. "I lied. We still have about fifteen minutes, really."

And then with a shove, she pushed him down on the bed behind him. Before he could have time to be surprised, she climbed on top of him, sitting on his stomach, her head bending down to attack his mouth with hers again.

He could not complain, really. The thought came again, that he _really_ liked it when Éponine took charge. He cupped her cheeks and pushed the hair out of her face so that he could kiss her better.

She finally let him up with maybe a few minutes to spare before the first visitors arrived. He thought it rather cruel that she only gave him such a short time to compose himself. Perhaps she really enjoyed seeing him flushed when they greeted their guests. But he could not complain about her methods, really. Before he started speaking, he glanced at her almost by instinct, thinking how lucky he was to have her in his life.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** BAM! There you go, the love confession! I have wanted to write this for a while and have always planned Enjolras to say it first. Hope you guys enjoyed it. I know some of you were probably expecting them to seal the deal, but, well, let's just say that I've picked the moment and I think it will be the perfect one when it happens, so (like Éponine is with Enjolras) you must be patient with me ;-).

I wrote a lot of this from Enjolras' point of view, because here is what I realized recently. After the movie, Éponine was the character I loved the most, but not because I relate to her, but rather because I admire her. I identified the most, instead, with Enjolras, so I feel it more natural for me at times to write this fic from his perspective, to write why _he_ loves _her_. I was extremely flattered when a reviewer a while back mentioned that my fic is a pretty accurate portrayal of an asexual person falling in love, because that is exactly what I am going for. See, I still fully believe that Enjolras is asexual, but because he is not completely immune to feelings, he has found himself developing feelings for and eventually falling in love with Éponine, who just happens to be a girl. For him, this newfound physical attraction or sexual desire is almost a secondary side effect of being in love with her. And because sex is such a foreign concept, which he had never before thought he would wish to experience, there is that fear there. But by and large, Enjolras cannot envision himself desiring any other person in the same way; _only _Éponine.

A bit of background notes: Since Joly is from the South and I have made his family to be merchants, I figured that they would own ships and be established in Marseille, as it was (and still is) one of the biggest ports in France. And as I have mentioned Joly to be the youngest son, the timeline also fits for his father to have been the age Joly is now (twenty-three) when the volunteers from Marseille marched in Paris (in 1792) and sang _La Marseillaise_. The only snag to this plan is the snow Joly mentioned in the previous chapter, as Marseille would rarely get snow. I will perhaps fix it or you could just ignore it.

Please review to motivate me if you can. I fully intend on finishing this fic before I go on a looooong… vacation in about a month's time, but I need your encouragement. Thanks for reading :-).


	33. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer: **_Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me. It's been a while, but I am bringing out my "I am not in the medical field" disclaimer. Bear with me, please :-).

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras and Joly/Musichetta.

**Author's Notes:** THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE GREAT RESPONSES REGARDING THE FLUFF! Sorry if I haven't responded to you. Real life has been quite busy and I was a bit stuck on this chapter for a while, so I took a mini break from this fic to refresh. I finally got a breakthrough in the last couple days though. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 33**

Joly arrived on Saturday at the pre-arranged time with Musichetta and the surgeon in tow. It was the same man who had fixed Enjolras' bones on that first day after the barricade. He was someone who smoked too much, Enjolras thought, as in his mind's eye, he had an image of the man's face being continually obscured by a cloud of fume. Nevertheless, he was a very skilled surgeon and — more importantly — could be trusted to be discreet. He did not even seem to know Enjolras' name, was not interested in asking it, and simply got down to business straight away.

Musichetta gave the group some privacy and waited in the living room, occupying herself with one of Enjolras' books. The _grisette _had hoped to use the time to catch up with Éponine, but the latter elected to remain in the bedroom with _Monsieur_ Joly and the surgeon. She had wanted to be there for Enjolras and also watched how the procedure was to be performed. The steps that _Monsieur_ Combeferre took to free the arm were relatively simple, but that was a much smaller cast for a much less serious injury.

The surgeon started by examining Enjolras' level of pain and range of motion. He was happy to announce that Joly was correct last week when he proclaimed that the bones appeared to be healing well. He took out several instruments that looked ominous, Éponine thought, but she only watched quietly as the man used them, with Joly assisting, to break apart the cast. Enjolras was being a good trooper, simply trying to keep still, as per the surgeon's instructions, though Éponine, who had her hand on his shoulder, felt him flinching slightly at several points during the process. The man, with a cigarette between his lips, talked through what he was doing, so that the patient could feel at ease knowing that every step was part of the procedure.

When the limb was finally freed, Enjolras found himself once again mesmerized by how misshapen his leg looked, especially when compared to the other one. It seemed thinner than the left leg and the skin was ghastly pale, flaky, and filthy. Joly saw his friend frowning and assured him that it was normal. The surgeon evaluated the freed limb by assessing the muscle strength and pain threshold, measuring any swelling and the range of motion, and checking the state of the skin and any other scars. He said that, at times, the patient might be required to wear a splint, but seeing as the _Monsieur_'s leg was in a decent state, he should be able to get by with using a cane only.

It was at this point that Joly produced such a cane, which he had taken the liberty to purchase for Enjolras. It somewhat matched his own, though he had not gotten one _too_ handsome, as he guessed that Enjolras would likely not want to use it in the long run and would abandon it as soon as he could walk well on his own two feet again. Enjolras thanked Joly most sincerely. He was most keen to try it out, to stand up for the first time in months without being weighed down by the bulk of the cast. Even in a sitting position, he already felt lighter and freer. Yes, there was some stiffness in the limb, but as a whole he felt no bothersome pain.

To Éponine, the surgeon gave instructions on how she might help clean and treat the skin now. It did not seem to make a difference to the man whether Éponine was Enjolras' wife, mistress, or caretaker. He assumed correctly that the _Mademoiselle_ was living with the patient and would be able to help him care for the skin, as well as encourage him to do some stretching exercises, which had been shown to improve muscle strength and prevent further injury. The surgeon said that he did not expect to be needed back for a follow-up visit, especially since _Monsieur_ Joly would be more than capable to review the healing progress in coming weeks.

His job done, the man then packed up his gear and took his leave. Joly collected the destroyed cast for disposal and followed him downstairs. When he returned, he elected to join Musichetta at the couch, as she was looking bored. He figured that Éponine could help Enjolras wash up by herself.

"After all this time, you are finally free, Enjolras," said Éponine, glancing up at him with a smile. She was kneeling in front of him, gently wiping the skin of his leg with a wet washcloth.

"Yes, that is true. Thank you for doing this, Éponine," said Enjolras, feeling slightly uncomfortable and rather embarrassed by the fact that she was seeing him in this state, with his leg bare and looking disfigured by months of limited use and being encased in plaster. But she seemed to give it little notice, as she went about her task with an impressive show of clinical professionalism, he thought. Indeed, Enjolras internally argued that this was a good practice for her, if she ever decided to go into this field later on. So for her sake, he should push past his unease and let her help him. Of course the fact that she was able to be clinical did not mean that _he_ could be too, as this was Éponine, after all, who was touching and rubbing him all over his leg…

"How does it feel?"

"What?" Enjolras replied quickly.

"Your leg? How does it feel to be released from the cast?"

"Oh. Uh… Liberating. Like a weight has been lifted off me, which… I suppose, is really the case, isn't it? I feel a bit foolish about making that statement."

Éponine gave a small laugh, "No, I understand your meaning. And it does not hurt much? What I am doing at the moment, it does not hurt you, does it, in terms of your skin and muscles?"

"No, it feels… fine. It's great."

"Excellent," she beamed up at him. "The quicker your leg can fully heal the happier the _both_ of us shall be, I think."

"Yes, indeed."

Enjolras was looking unsure of what else to say, Éponine noticed. He was particularly uneasy about being vulnerable in the hands of another person, wasn't he? She wanted to shake her head. Did he not realize that _nothing_ would make her view him any less?

Nevertheless, she decided to divert the topic, "I have been meaning to ask you… Why have we not seen _Monsieur_ Combeferre around? Did the two of you quarrel?"

"Oh, I have completely neglected to tell you. My father does not know many of my friends, but he _has_ met Combeferre and knows that we are close. So he has been pestering him for my whereabouts, even going so far as to hire a man to follow Combeferre around, if you can believe it. He has been forced to stay away as a result."

"That is such a shame. I am sure you miss him very much."

"Yes, I had rather hoped I would be able to see Combeferre more often now that we are out of the convent. But it is my fault, I am afraid. My father is being unexpectedly dogged about this."

"I think it is perfectly reasonable for him to be persistent, no? He just wants to find his son. I wish I could say the same of _my_ father." She paused then when she realized what she had just said, "Actually, on second thought, knowing my father, I am glad that he does not care very much."

"But does he not?" Enjolras asked quietly. "Where does he think you are at the moment?"

Éponine had to think about it for a bit. "The last time I saw him was when I went to Marius' apartment with _Monsieur_ Combeferre. He told my father that he was taking me under his care. So I suppose… My father would think that I am with _Monsieur_ Combeferre. Oh no! Do you think he would be harassing him as well?"

"I am not sure… I do not know your father well enough," which was true, though Enjolras _did_ remember being apprised of Combeferre's particular encounter with _Monsieur_ Thénardier. It was an odd memory, now that he thought about it, because he could recall feeling a casual pity for this _gamine_ whose father was so terrible to her, but at the same time, he almost could not marry the image of _that_ girl with the woman before him, whom he loved so deeply. If he now thought about what Thénardier had put Éponine through, he would no longer feel a simple pity… He would feel _rage_. He tried not to show it though and managed to keep his tone steady, "Forgive me, I hope I do not upset you, but you did say that he might not… care as much. So perhaps he had gone to Combeferre's place once and then went on his way when he could not find you?"

"That is perhaps the best outcome," Éponine admitted with a sigh. "It is a bizarre feeling, to wish that your own father does not care about you, but I have given up on the possibility of re-capturing his love. More than anything, I now just want him to leave me alone."

_I do not want him in your life either, Éponine, not if I could help it_… He did not say this out loud though, as he would not want to insult her with his overprotectiveness. She was a tough girl, after all, who was capable of looking after herself.

Éponine seemed able to guess what he was thinking though, as she spoke again with a relenting smile, "Do not worry, Enjolras. If he does locate me, I think I shall be able to handle myself. It will be worse if he finds out about you, about _us_. I am ashamed to say that he will certainly look for ways to extract money from you… or worse. Let's just say it is best if you do not ever meet him and if our fathers never cross paths."

"Now," she spoke again before Enjolras could say anything in response. "I am done here." She got up and stood in front of him. "Will you need help with your pants?"

Enjolras looked up to see her teasing smile. She really did enjoy torturing him, didn't she? "No, I think I shall manage by myself."

"As you wish. Let me just test one thing." And then she bent down and placed a hand on each of his bare thighs, leaning on them slightly, "Does this hurt?"

Her face was directly in front of his own and he felt his cheeks grow warm, "The right one is expectedly a bit stiff."

She was smiling a bit more as she kneaded the flesh underneath her hands, "Does this make it feel better? The surgeon suggests that I do this regularly for you in the next few days."

He shook his head in response and was delighted to see her expression changing to confusion. "No?" she asked.

"No," he said, shaking his head again. "But this will."

And with a swift movement, he pulled Éponine in by the back of her neck. She managed a surprised gasp before he closed his mouth on hers.

"You enjoy watching me squirm, don't you, Éponine?" he said in between kisses, scraping her bottom lip slightly with his teeth.

"Well, yes… If this is the result I get."

After some time, she broke contact with his lips and moved her mouth to his ear, whispering, "We cannot be too long though. _Monsieur _Joly and Musichetta are just in the other room and will be wondering what's _keeping_ us."

Enjolras actually sighed in frustration, "True… I shall need to speak to Joly too, let him know of our plans. Would you mind getting him?"

"No, of course not. I will keep Musichetta company." She bent down and gave him one last kiss, "To be continued."

He watched her walk out, feeling quite relieved and apprehensive and excited all at once about all the things that he could do now that he was free from his plaster prison. One in particular came to mind…

Enjolras made an effort to keep his mind on _innocent_ thoughts though, as he spent the next hour trying out his new cane with Joly's assistance. It was an entirely foreign feeling, as he had been used to his leg carrying so much extra weight from the cast. And he was certainly not immediately steady with only the cane as support. Nevertheless, he was determined to literally get back on his own two feet as soon as possible.

While limping around the room, Enjolras also told Joly that he and Éponine would take up on the latter's offer to go down to Marseille. They would wait until Enjolras was fit to travel though, which might take a few more weeks.

Joly was exuberant, "Excellent! I am thrilled to hear it, _mon ami_. The two of you will love it there…" He started listing off all the good things that his hometown had to offer and then went on to share his Christmas plan for Musichetta. "So you see, Enjolras, I think we shall all have a very _joyeux nöel_ indeed!"

In the other room, Musichetta was telling Éponine about the same plan, though of course she had no knowledge of the pending proposal, so the latter tried very hard not to give anything away. Éponine instead told the other girl that she and Enjolras would likely end up at Joly's home as well. This was met by an excited approval from Musichetta, who said that she would miss Éponine's presence in Paris, of course, but would it not be wonderful if they all could spend Christmas together?

The girls' conversation was interrupted a short while later when another pair of girls appeared on their doorstep. It was the schoolgirls, in fact, who did suggest that they might be able to sneak out and come by on Saturday afternoon.

Gabrielle greeted Éponine and Musichetta most cheerfully, while Justine entered the apartment with Luc in tow, both being quite abrupt in their greetings, as they were too busy arguing with each other. Apparently, the _gamin_ had spotted Justine in the streets on her way over and had sidled up to her… pinching her purse in the process. He gave it back of course, but afterwards began to tease her, saying that she would be such an easy target for other pickpockets, who would certainly not be as generous as he was. How would she expect to have an independent future when she could not even walk around in the neighborhood without getting robbed? She would likely need an escort, Luc announced derisively. The two of them ended up quarreling about this all the way to the Rimbaud bakery, with Justine maintaining that she would certainly not repeat the same mistake now that Luc had shown her the kind of people to look out for.

The other three girls looked at each other with much amusement. Since that first time they met, Justine and Luc had actually developed quite an interesting relationship, which was largely filled with snappy repartee alongside an almost equal preoccupation with Enjolras. And true enough, once tired of sparring with each other, they looked at Éponine in unison and enquired about _Monsieur_ Émile's whereabouts.

Éponine let them know of the cast removal and suggested that her husband might take a while to check off the leg's condition with _Monsieur_ Joly. So Justine and Luc waited… and bantered some more.

Gabrielle, meanwhile, appeared to be waiting for an entirely different someone and, sure enough, about ten minutes after she arrived, Jacques showed up at the door. It seemed that they had arranged this meeting ahead of time. The two of them excused themselves and went to sit down in the dining room. Éponine and Musichetta watched them long enough to see Jacques take Gabrielle's hand and decided to give the pair some privacy. They perhaps would have preferred to meet alone, but it was not as if they were spoiled for choice or opportunities. So the least that the rest of them could do was indulge them a private moment on the rare occasions that they did get to meet.

Regardless, Musichetta and Éponine could not resist whispering a bit about the match-up. They thought the whole thing was rather sweet and unexpected, considering how Jacques had his eyes on Justine the first time the girls came over. Éponine simply hoped that the romance would not be discovered by the nuns or Gabrielle's parents. Given what the girl had said of her parents, there was no chance that they would approve of Jacques. Their best option, if the two were truly serious, was to elope… Éponine certainly knew something about that and fully sympathized with their plight.

Justine, meanwhile, caught her best friend's eye from across the room and smiled at her encouragingly. All Gabrielle had ever wanted was to fall in love, after all, so Justine was truly happy that she got to experience it, despite being confined in their school. Once upon a time, it was the only thing that Justine had desired as well. She fantasized about finding a man who would be as devoted to her as she was to him. But things had certainly changed for her lately… Yes, she still believed in love, but she felt just as happy being here and having these discussions with _Monsieur_ Émile and his friends and, yes, even this boy Luc, who — she must admit — had some very interesting views on the world outside, despite his rather irritating penchant for always wanting to prove _her_ wrong…

… Such as at the moment. In response to Justine bemoaning about the tyranny of the prioress, Luc told her of this new gang leader who was claiming territories all around the neighborhood and was pressing on the street children to work for him, lest they be hassled and pushed out of their sleeping areas. This man was also apparently curious as to where many of the _gamins_ were disappearing to during much of the day. Luc and some of the older urchins were doing their darnedest to keep him at bay, but it was only a matter of time before he would eventually intimidate enough of the children to compliance. Adults tended to win in a fight against children, after all…

Yes, what could Justine really say to that? The boy had a point. She did not know how she could help resolve the matter though, so she supposed she would just lend an ear and stop complaining about her issues for once.

Over the next few days, this situation grew worse for a lot of the _gamins_, most of whom found themselves being ousted from their usual street dwelling. So they ended up sleeping around one of the few safe places they knew: The Rimbaud bakery. Or more precisely, in the alleyway behind the building, among the crates and garbage. Not having the heart to let them stay there, Enjolras — following a discussion with _Monsieur_ Rimbaud — began to offer the urchins who came to the evening session to stay the night in the apartment afterwards.

The baker also took the action to report the new gang to the police, hoping that if more of the members were rounded up, the pressure on the _gamins_ would lessen. Éponine was worried that _Monsieur_ Rimbaud and his business might be harassed (or robbed) as a result, but Enjolras' evening talks had lately been attracting a steady stream of Jacques' fellow masons, all of whom were growing more loyal to Enjolras and more protective of the Rimbaud bakery as a result.

Justine and Gabrielle also had the idea to ask the prioress if the convent would take in some of these children (the female ones, at least). They very carefully claimed that they found out about the urchins' plight from overhearing the conversations of the ladies who worked in the kitchen. The prioress, however, was suspicious immediately and told the girls that they did not know these urchins, who grew up in the streets without parental supervision. Many of them had very little morals and would have no qualms about stealing from the Church. So no, she denied their request on the basis that she simply could not risk the safety of their fellow students by admitting potential criminals into convent grounds.

As it was, the children took up Enjolras' offer and started spending the night in the couple's apartment. They largely slept in the living room, but it was not rare that one would find their way to the floor of the couple's bedroom by morning. Enjolras and Éponine were of two minds about it. On the one hand, they certainly could not throw out the urchins, but on the other, this also meant that they had significantly less privacy in the apartment to do… _other things_.

It was undeniably frustrating and both felt rather _thwarted_ at a most inopportune time, but they told themselves not to be selfish, considering how they were planning to leave for Marseille soon anyway. They had not yet had the heart to break the news to a few of Enjolras' most devoted 'followers', given the atmosphere in the neighborhood, but they would not likely take it very well.

And indeed, the fact that Enjolras' audience continued to grow day by day (or, rather, night by night) was both fascinatingly amazing and alarmingly ominous for both Éponine and Joly. They supposed they could never underestimate the extent of Enjolras' charisma and felt glad that the former revolutionary leader had found receptive ears (and minds) for his ideas once more. At the same time though, they could not help but feel worried that the more people learnt of _Monsieur_ Émile, the more likely that Enjolras would be exposed.

The same thoughts immediately occurred to Combeferre when he _finally_ found his way to see Enjolras and Éponine one night. He was astounded, to say the least, to be greeted by such a full house, with all eyes focused on his best friend in the middle of a speech. _Déjà vu_ would certainly be one way of describing it.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **So yes, Combeferre is back! You shall read more about what he's been up to in the next chapter. Hopefully I can whip it up quickly, since I've been planning for Combeferre's re-appearance for a while ;-).

I researched cast removal a little bit. Not knowing precisely what kind of plaster would have been used at the time (there was something called "the plaster of Paris" which sounded apt), I could only take my best guess at what the procedure was like. If you are in the medical field, I hope you didn't find my descriptions too unbelievable.

There were a couple of different things happening here with Jacques/Gabrielle, Justine, the gamins, and the masons. I have my plans for them, but I welcome your speculation! I am not going for a Justine/Luc pairing though, just so you know, since she's 16 and he's 11 :-).

And apologies for seemingly derailing the "Enjolras/Éponine getting laid" train. Believe me, I am not stalling. I have been planning for it to go down this way. I promise you that when it happens, it'll be a _good_ moment (though I still don't intend on writing smut).

About three more weeks until I go on a long vacation. Can I do it? Can I finish this fic before then? I certainly hope so :-). Please motivate me with your reviews if you can. Thank you so much!


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer: **_Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras and Joly/Musichetta. Also featuring a MASSIVE AMOUNT of Enjolras/Combeferre friendship and a little bit of Combeferre/Éponine friendship as well.

**Author's Notes:** Wow, time went by fast. It's been almost a week since I last updated. Thanks so much for the responses :-). You guys want more Combeferre? Well, here ya go… Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 34**

Combeferre watched from the open doorway, above the heads of people standing in front of him, how Enjolras was holding the room absolutely captive. It was lucky that Combeferre was tall, because otherwise he would not have been able to see anything through the crowd that his best friend had evidently managed to attract once more. The latter still had his impressive talent for oratory, but Combeferre could not help but notice that the fire behind Enjolras' speech was not the same as it used to be, like it was tempered somehow, or perhaps was of a different kind altogether… He found himself nevertheless transfixed. He had even forgotten to look around and locate Joly, Musichetta, or Éponine.

No one said a word while Enjolras was speaking, but when he finished, the audience immediately began talking excitedly among themselves. Combeferre too snapped out of his reverie and proceeded to make his way through the crowd, saying "excuse me" and "pardon me" profusely.

He was suddenly stopped by a hand on his sleeve. It was Joly, who was standing next to another man with whom he seemed to be smoking a pipe together.

"Combeferre! Fancy finding you here!" exclaimed Joly. "You, uh, managed to get away then? Can you believe this crowd?"

The other medical student looked around, feeling both fascinated and worried, "Yes, it is rather impressive. I suppose I should never underestimate our friend's ability to attract a crowd, huh?"

"Indeed," said Joly with a proud smile. He then introduced Combeferre to the other man, whose name was Rimbaud and who was the owner of this establishment or, more precisely, of the bakery on the ground floor.

Combeferre nodded in polite acknowledgement, "You do not mind, _Monsieur_, that our friend is holding these meetings in your building?"

"My wife did complain about the noise, so I came up here a few nights ago to hear what was being said. Before I realized what was happening though, I had stayed for the full session. I was telling _Monsieur_ Joly that your friend's talents were wasted as a soldier. He really has a special gift for speaking and he clearly knows what he is talking about. I see now why all these people come to him night-after-night. His words give them hope. I can hardly put a stop to it, can I?"

"You do know many of these people then, _Monsieur_?" Combeferre asked in a careful tone.

Rimbaud shrugged, "Most of them are either masons who work with my brother-in-law or the local street children. I believe some of the girls are from that convent over there. My father-in-law escorts them to come here."

Combeferre nodded. He supposed that if the host did not mind… He begged their apologies then and excused himself, as he did not have much time tonight and would still need to speak to both Enjolras and Éponine. He said that he would find Joly again before he left.

When he got closer to Enjolras, he saw that his friend was looking very good indeed, certainly better than the last time he had come to see him inside the convent. Enjolras really was not one for isolation and confinement, Combeferre thought. He needed something to which he could channel his passions. He was presently talking quite seriously to a blonde girl and so had not noticed his friend approaching. The thought occurred to Combeferre that this was already quite an odd sight. He did not recall ever seeing Enjolras hold a conversation with a woman before, other than perhaps his mother or Éponine and Musichetta (but even the latter two only happened after he had gotten injured).

The blonde girl noticed Combeferre first. She watched him with narrowed eyes and a rather distrustful expression. If it was at all possible, Combeferre would think that she was being _protective_ of Enjolras, as if she was wary of any unknown person who would come up to him. Well, this girl was not going to like him any better because he was about to interrupt her very important talk with Enjolras.

"Excuse me—" said Combeferre and Justine at the same time to each other. She was about to ask the man if he could wait a moment before speaking to _Monsieur_ Émile, because she was not yet finished.

It was then that Enjolras finally saw the other man, his expression brightening immediately, "Combeferre!" He got up with slight difficulty and gave his friend a solid embrace. "It is good to see you!"

Justine watched with disbelief as _Monsieur_ Émile most fervently greeted this unknown man, who had just barged in on her conversation. He had the decency to give her an apologetic smile though, over the shoulder of _Monsieur_ Émile, who now only had eyes for the newcomer and talking very rapidly.

When the two men separated, Combeferre turned to the girl and introduced himself.

"Oh, I apologize," said Enjolras. "Justine, this is my friend, Combeferre. Combeferre, meet _Mademoiselle_ Justine Babineaux. She is a student at _Petit-Picpus_."

"It is a pleasure, _Mademoiselle_," said Combeferre in an ever polite tone, taking her hand. "I am afraid I will need to beg your indulgence some more and borrow Émile for a while. He and I have some business to discuss. I promise to return him as soon as possible."

Justine was taken aback at being confronted with such impeccable good manners. Perhaps she had been spending too much time with Luc lately… She only managed to nod dumbly in response.

"Thank you. I very much appreciate it," said Combeferre, smiling at the girl again. He then turned to Enjolras, who said, "We can talk in the bedroom, Combeferre."

Before leaving, Enjolras caught Éponine's eyes from across the room and pointed to Combeferre, who gave her a wide smile, and to whom she responded with a surprised wave. Enjolras did not even need to come over and speak to her; she seemed to understand where he was going from his simple gestures.

And with that, the two men made their way, Enjolras walking slowly with the aid of a cane. Combeferre noticed that he was not limping as much as expected. Trust Enjolras to recover quicker than a normal man.

In the narrow hallway that led to the bedroom, Enjolras and Combeferre were startled to find a couple in the middle of kissing each other…

… Or they had been, until the two men interrupted them.

"_Monsieur_ Émile!" the girl exclaimed, blushing thoroughly. The boy also looked extremely embarrassed, his face growing red to match his hair.

"Gabrielle, Jacques," said Enjolras in a neutral tone. He jerked his head towards his companion, "This is my friend, Combeferre. Do not mind us. We just need to use the bedroom for a private conversation. Uh... carry on."

Combeferre nodded towards the two, "_Mademoiselle_, _Monsieur_. It is nice to meet you."

They walked on without looking back, giving the pair some more privacy. Enjolras already knew of the mason's relationship with the schoolgirl from Éponine and had no particular opinion about it, other than he hoped the nuns never found out. Combeferre was rather impressed by Enjolras' cool attitude at encountering other people's… _romantic _moment. His friend had certainly changed in an unexpected way…

Once they were by themselves, Enjolras turned to Combeferre and said, "I am of course very happy to see you, _mon ami_, but are you sure it is safe for you to be here?"

"Yes, I'm certain I have given your father the slip. Believe me, I took quite a detour to get here. I was also very careful to ensure that no one else followed me. I would not have risked it otherwise, Enjolras, but I must see you."

"What is it?"

"I am afraid that I must take a trip home. I received word that my mother is at death's door, that she is only persisting to see me before she goes."

Enjolras frowned and placed a hand on Combeferre's shoulder, "I am very sorry to hear it."

"Thank you, Enjolras. I appreciate it. She is quite late in years and has led a full life… It is her time, I think…" Despite his words though, Combeferre still looked rather sad.

"When will you leave?"

"Tomorrow, perhaps. Or the day after. I do not wish to prolong her misery."

Enjolras nodded, "Safe travels then, _mon ami_. Give my regards to your family. How are they?"

"That is the other thing that makes me anxious. I have a strong suspicion that my sisters' husbands would quarrel over my mother's will, but the likelihood is, she will have bequeathed everything to me. And there is also the matter of Mathieu…"

Mathieu was Combeferre's illegitimate younger brother. Their father had unfortunately died without legally acknowledging him, so Combeferre's mother had been adamant about denying the boy's parentage and consequently of any claim that he might have to the family fortune. As far as his mother was concerned, her husband left this world with only one son entitled to his name and estate.

However, unbeknownst to her, Combeferre was sympathetic to the boy's plight and had actually been sending money to him and _his _mother in secret for many years. He supposed that when his own mother passed and he became the head of the family, he would be at liberty to share the fortune with his brother. His older sisters and their husbands would not approve of course, so he would have to do something to appease them as well. Combeferre was certainly not looking forward to dealing with the whole ugly business…

"How old is he now?" asked Enjolras.

"Sixteen. I have employed a tutor for him in the hopes that he would be interested in coming to Paris for university. But he has recently written saying that he's considering taking an apprenticeship as a blacksmith instead."

"Smithing is a respectable profession. It provides a steady income."

"Yes, but I cannot help but feel that it shall be a waste of his mind. You have not met him, Enjolras. He is an incredibly bright boy. He can pick any field he wants and excels in it. And I will gladly pay for his tuition of course."

"Perhaps that is the reason, Combeferre. In choosing smithing, he may be looking to assert his independence. He likely wants a source of living that does not rely on you or your money."

"But it is also _his_ money. He is entitled to it as much as I am. My mother and sisters may not like it, but he is as much part of our family as my brothers-in-law, for instance."

Enjolras placed a hand on Combeferre's shoulder again, "As much as we have denounced the unfairness of succession laws, _mon ami_, in this matter, they are actually in your favor. Once you are the head of your estate, you can do anything you want with the fortune, really, including sharing it with your brother. Nevertheless, I hope you do not mind when I say that I do not envy your predicament."

"Yes, you perhaps have it easy as an only child."

"Perhaps… But it does make my father place an irritatingly close focus on my dealings as of late."

Combeferre chuckled a bit, "I suppose he finally realizes that using the 'hands-off' approach on you is not doing him any favors. You do have a knack for getting into trouble, _mon ami_. Speaking of which… I am happy to see you speaking like you used to, but do you think it wise to attract these many people to you at such a regular basis? We agreed that you were going to keep a low profile, did we not?"

Enjolras almost resembled a student being scolded by his teacher and was appropriately defensive when he answered, "I cannot help it, Combeferre. It all just somehow escalated. Inside the convent, I certainly did not expect to be meeting anyone, but those girls wanted to get to know me for some reason. And outside of it, well, it simply started with a simple tutoring session for _Monsieur_ Rimbaud's son and brother-in-law. I am sure you will approve of _that_."

"Yes, despite my concerns, it _is_ admirable what you are doing, Enjolras… And I cannot help but notice that some of the things you said today are reminiscent of the ideas we once discussed." And then he added with a smile, "Though I do not remember you being quite so receptive to my views in the past."

"I have always taken your opinions to heart, Combeferre," said Enjolras in his most sincere tone, as if he could believe that his best friend would doubt him. "When I first agreed to do the tutoring, I wrote to you, remember, saying that I finally understood why you are completely taken by Condorcet's ideas. In fact, I recall telling Éponine precisely what you said about progress only being achieved through gradual education. It is mainly why I am more open to this teaching profession."

"Is that right? I am very flattered if you take my words as inspiration, Enjolras. I was only jesting earlier of course. I know that you listen to me at times."

"More than at times."

They then spent the next few moments in a spirited discussion about philosophy and politics, with Combeferre noting that he was glad to see Enjolras being swayed more by Condorcet than Robespierre these days… They also spoke about whatever else that came to mind. Enjolras had missed _this_. It did not hit him until now just how much he was _longing_ to see Combeferre. Joly was a terrific friend, but Enjolras could not spar with him like he could with Combeferre. And Éponine certainly challenged him, but more so in _other ways_, especially lately…

Speaking of whom, Enjolras told Combeferre how Éponine had also claimed Condorcet as her favorite.

"Has she now? Well, I certainly cannot complain about her taste," said Combeferre with a smile. "How _is_ your relationship with the _Mademoiselle_? Joly tells me the two of you are quite romantic with each other."

Enjolras looked puzzled, "I do not think Joly has ever seen anything that would have constituted as outwardly romantic between us, but… I must admit that I am thoroughly in love with her, Combeferre."

The other man's smile grew wider, "I never thought I would see the day, Enjolras! I am extremely happy for you. I would hazard to guess that she is also the inspiration behind your more temperate views lately?"

"Yes, she and you are on equal footing on this, Combeferre. She is extremely practical, which I think prompts me to re-consider much of my previous approach… But more than anything, I think I just wish to do her proud."

"Spoken like a man in love," said Combeferre as he reached over to squeeze his friend's shoulder. "Did I not tell you that it is a glorious feeling? If I were you, I certainly would not trade it for anything."

Enjolras looked at the other man in contemplation, suddenly remembering what Joly had said a while back, "What about you, Combeferre? Are you… _involved_ with anyone?"

Combeferre almost burst out laughing, his eyes going wide, "That must be the _weirdest_ question that you have ever asked me, Enjolras! No, I am afraid I have no lady in my life."

"Oh."

"But do not worry about me— _Are_ you worried, Enjolras? I unfortunately do not have much time at the moment anyway to embark on a love affair. With the way things are going, I would not be very good company for any young lady, I am afraid."

"Oh," Enjolras said again, eager to change the subject now. "Well, given your many priorities, will you be fine with leaving your affairs here to go out of town?"

"Yes, I can take some time off my studies and from the hospital, but I am more worried about those patients that occasionally still come calling to my house. I will leave an extra set of keys with Joly, so that he can come by once in a while and check things off, water my plants and the like. He will also collect my mail and maintain correspondence with our Republican contacts if so required. As to your father… Well, I suppose, before I depart I should tell his man that there will be no sense in shadowing me any longer, lest he wishes to follow me home."

"I hope he has not been harassing you too terribly, has he? I do apologize, Combeferre. At least one upside of going home is that you will no longer have to deal with my father."

"I truthfully do not mind it much. Other than the fact that I have not been able to visit you here, it has not been a complete nuisance. Nevertheless, I can understand his reasoning to an extent, Enjolras."

Enjolras sighed rather heavily, "What does he say?"

"Well, let me just preface by saying that our conversations tended to be one-sided. After I have claimed for the millionth time that I do not know where you are, that I have not seen you for months, well, there was not much else I _could_ say, was there? But he guesses correctly that I can get word to you. He says that he forgives you, that he does not care what you have done—"

"I do not request his forgiveness," Enjolras said hotly. "It is my life that I am leading—"

"Enjolras, I _know_," Combeferre interrupted in a placating tone. "I am only delivering his message. He believes that he can strike a bargain with an old colleague who now happens to be a judge. If you make yourself known to him now, he will be able to remove the warrant for your arrest. I think he just wishes to speak to you, above all, to know that you are all right. It must be difficult for him, to deal with this uncertainty over your fate. He has no way of knowing whether you are still alive after all."

"You are perhaps overestimating his affection for me."

"No, I do not think so. I see it in his face, Enjolras. He is genuinely worried about you. And your mother, he tells me, does not stop fretting about your fate as well. Would you not just put them out of their misery and let him come and find you?"

Enjolras was quiet for a while, contemplating his friend's words. Was he really being unreasonably stubborn about this? He finally said in a quiet tone, "If I let them find me, Combeferre, what are the chances that they would set me free again to lead my life? You said so yourself that my father is done with the 'hands-off' approach. What is the likelihood that they will come to accept Éponine? She is part of my life now. I have no intention of ever giving her up."

Combeferre should not have been surprised, really, that Enjolras would be as passionate in love as he was with his causes. And with Éponine, he seemed to have found a way to have both _and _without the high likelihood of getting himself killed like before. Combeferre also did not want Enjolras to have to give up the first and possibly the _only_ woman he would ever love.

"Perhaps you could… negotiate the terms with your father? He does not seem to be an unreasonable man."

"Perhaps…" Enjolras stayed silent again, weighing the options in his mind. He finally shook his head, "No, I cannot risk losing her. I think I shall stick with my plan. Joly has told you, I assume, that Éponine and I are intending to take refuge in his home?"

"Yes, it is a good plan," said Combeferre in a supportive tone. "And Joly's house is only a few days' journey from my own. I shall come and visit when I have wrapped up my family affairs."

"I will be very glad to see you there," replied Enjolras with a smile. "And if it makes you feel better, before we leave, I shall write a letter to my parents to let them know that I am fine and that I will come find them when the time is right."

Combeferre had a strong suspicion of when that was, though he did not ask it. He almost could not believe how fate had unfolded for his best friend. Three months ago, this was a man who had wanted nothing else but _La Révolution_. Enjolras would have forsaken _everything_ — love, marriage, family, a _future_ — for that concept to be reality in this country to which he was so deeply devoted. Well, he had not _entirely_ changed, had he? But it seemed that that famed marble heart of his was finally open to those romantic notions which he once proclaimed as unnecessary and sentimental.

"I think that is a decent solution, Enjolras," Combefere relented. "I must say that you are certainly more open to new ideas lately. Not only do you now have a mistress, but I noticed that you no longer avoid your female following."

Enjolras looked at him in confusion for a short moment before catching on to his meaning, "Oh, do you mean the schoolgirls? Well, there was no avoiding them in the convent, was there? I think most of them are simply curious about the world outside, on the _alternative_ to what they have been taught so far, but I must say that Justine — _Mademoiselle_ Babineaux — in particular rather impresses me. She has started writing down her thoughts lately, Combeferre, and she has some talent for it. I will show them to you one day if she does not mind."

"The _Mademoiselle_ is certainly… _protective_ of you. Does Éponine not mind?"

"Éponine? No, why would she?"

"Well, in my experience, young ladies do not tend to like it when their beau gives attention to other young ladies…"

Enjolras was still looking perplexed, "But she has no cause to be worried. I can never look at Justine — or any other girl — like I do Éponine. And she certainly never shows any ill humor when I speak to the girls."

"Then it seems that the two of you have established a healthy trust with each other. I am glad." A mischievous expression graced Combeferre's face then, "Now, since you have asked me such an odd question earlier, it is my turn. I never thought I would ever pose this question to you, but tell me… How do you enjoy the physical act of love?"

If Enjolras had been drinking something, he would have certainly choked on the liquid. He stumbled through his response, "I am not sure… We haven't, really…"

"Oh, forgive me. Do you or she wish to wait—"

"No, she doesn't. I mean… We _have_ been waiting, until I got the cast off my leg, that is, but then the street children started spending the night here, because there is this new thug in the neighborhood who is pressing on them, and… We just _haven't_."

"Well, I suppose, you will be on your way soon to Marseilles. It is only a bit more time."

"Yes… It has been… _frustrating_ though," admitted Enjolras.

"No doubt," said Combeferre, chuckling a little at the idea that Enjolras was actually _sexually_ frustrated. His friend was indeed maturing. "I apologize for the indelicate topic, Enjolras, but I could not resist. This has been such an illuminating night for me. Unfortunately though, I cannot stay for much longer and I still must speak with Éponine. It is concerning her father. Shall we go find her?"

* * *

At the same time that Enjolras was having his chat with Combeferre, Éponine was talking to Luc and Justine. She had been in the middle of conversation with only the _gamin_ when Enjolras had alerted her of Combeferre's presence, but when the two men had left for the other room, Justine came over and joined them.

"Thwarted, were you?" Luc said to Justine with a cheeky grin.

The girl ignored him and addressed Éponine instead, "Who was that man, _Madame_?"

"That's _Monsieur_ Combeferre," replied Éponine with a smile. "He is Émile's dearest friend."

Luc beat Justine to the question, "If he is such a dear friend, then how come we haven't seen him around here before?"

"He is a very busy man. Like _Monsieur_ Joly, he is a physician, but he also has other affairs that I wouldn't be able to explain," said Éponine vaguely.

"How does _Monsieur _Émile know him?" asked Justine in a cool tone.

Éponine thought quickly, "Well, he used to be a doctor with the army as well. He was in the same unit as my husband and served as his right-hand man."

"Oh," said Justine, frowning slightly. "Well, I wish he could have waited before speaking with _Monsieur_ Émile. I would need to return to the convent in a short time."

"I am sure that whatever he needs to say is urgent, Justine," said Éponine with a smile. "_Monsieur_ Combeferre is one of the most considerate people that you could ever meet. He would not have intruded on your time otherwise."

"Yes, Justine, you are not the only one who can _monopolize_ _Monsieur_ Émile's time," remarked Luc.

"_Monopolize_?" scoffed Justine. "Where did you learn such a fancy word?"

"I heard it around. I am getting my _education_, you know."

Justine ignored him again and turned to Éponine, "Do you think he will want to come here often? _Monsieur_ Combeferre, I mean… Will he want to assist with the session?"

"I do not know, Justine. He _is_ a very busy man…" But Éponine was suddenly distracted by the look on the girl's face. Could it be possible? Was Justine feeling… _threatened_ by _Monsieur_ Combeferre? Éponine supposed that out of all the people who were coming to these discussions, Justine would be the closest to Enjolras, one with whom he seemed to have connected the most, and one who had known him when he was just _Monsieur_ Émile, the former soldier in recovery, before he became _Monsieur_ Émile, the teacher. It _was_ possible that Justine would be protective of that connection.

Éponine found it interesting that Justine had curiously never shown herself to be jealous of Éponine, as Enjolras' supposed wife, but was instead envious of _Monsieur_ Combeferre. Why? Because he was… Enjolras' second-in-charge? Could Justine have perhaps desired that position for herself? Éponine made a mental note to raise the subject with Enjolras. He would need to tell the girl of his intention to leave very soon. She might have trouble letting go…

The three of them spent some time speaking with each other until they were interrupted by Enjolras and Combeferre, who asked to talk to Éponine in private. Justine's face noticeably fell. It looked like she was not going to finish that discussion with _Monsieur_ Émile after all, as she only had about fifteen minutes before she had to leave. Combeferre, ever considerate, noticed this and suggested to Enjolras that he could perhaps stay here while he spoke with Éponine alone. She could tell him later, after all. Enjolras just looked at Combeferre and Éponine and shrugged. He supposed that if the matter was concerning Éponine's father, she might want to hear about it by herself… He should grant her that privacy.

Meanwhile, Luc was looking at Combeferre curiously. This man was obviously an aristocrat as well, the _gamin_ thought. Perhaps he and _Monsieur_ Émile did serve in the army together, but somehow the boy doubted it. There was just something about these two — and _Monsieur_ Joly, as well — that made him think that they would never be part of the military… Above it all though, Luc was most amused by the fact that Justine could not recognize _Monsieur_ Émile as _one of her own_… To Luc, it was much too apparent that these _Messieurs_ came from money, but Justine, the schoolgirls, and most of the _adults_ attending here tonight seemed convinced otherwise. Luc was not about to reveal the gentlemen's secret though, as he supposed they had their reasons to disguise their roots. But it was still curious…

As Enjolras returned to his talk with Justine, and with Luc joining as well, Combeferre and Éponine went to the other room for their conversation. Combeferre told her briefly what he had already mentioned to Enjolras in terms of needing to go home soon for his mother. Éponine was sympathetic to his family situation, as it was tough and complex in an entirely different way to hers. Speaking of which…

"Your father came to my house recently, Éponine."

"Did he? Yes, I had thought that he would. Oh, I hope he did not cause a problem for you, _Monsieur_."

"No, no, do not fret. He _was_ looking for you, but when he saw that you were clearly no longer living there, well… he made his own assumptions."

"What do you mean?"

"He inferred that you were… my mistress. And that when I grew tired of you, I had sent you on your way."

"Oh."

"I normally would not tolerate such a crude conjecture about anyone, but I thought that this way at least he would stop searching for you. I told him that last I heard, you were looking to catch a ship out of the country. I hope you do not mind?"

"No, of course not! This is actually great news, _Monsieur_. I have been rather worried that my father has been harassing you." Éponine gave him a smile, "Thank you for protecting me. And Enjolras as well. All I want now is for my father to be as far away from Enjolras as possible. The last thing he needs is for my father to stir up trouble for him."

Combeferre looked at her with a hesitant expression, "Actually… And I had not told Enjolras this, but there _was_ a tense moment at my house… When your father was just leaving — would you believe it? — he actually encountered Enjolras' father coming in. The latter was on his way to ask me once more if I had seen his son. Thankfully, your father had no way of knowing who the other man was, or what his business was in my home, or how he might be of some interest to him, other than the fact that he looked like a typically wealthy man. Enjolras' father, on his part, also took little notice of your father, though _his_ valet was more than eager to see your father on his way. Thankfully, they passed each other without any exchange, but you can imagine how my mind and heart were racing at the time!"

Éponine laughed in relief, "Yes, that would have been an intense moment and certainly a close call."

"Indeed," Combeferre joined her, chuckling a bit.

They chatted casually for a few minutes after that, mostly talking about her and Enjolras' wellbeing. Joly would be able to monitor the progress of Enjolras' leg, but it would be good if Éponine could also ensure that Enjolras did his exercises, especially once they were out of the city. Combeferre told her how happy he was that Enjolras had her in his life. Éponine could only blush in response. It meant a lot that Enjolras' closest friend approved of her.

After that, Combeferre did not have much time left before he had to leave, so the two of them re-joined the crowd in the living room. The schoolgirls and most of the masons had left by now. Éponine joined Enjolras, who was conversing with Luc and _Monsieur_ Rimbaud, so Combeferre took the opportunity to say his goodbye to Joly and Musichetta, who were cuddling on the couch. It might be a while before he could return to Paris again, Combeferre told them, as he was planning on traveling down to see Enjolras and Éponine in Marseilles after his family affairs were settled. Joly, in particular, said that he would miss him _terribly_, but he would ensure that the other man's house was looked after. Combeferre then went over to bid farewell to Enjolras and Éponine. The two men gave each other a solid embrace, promising that they would see each other in about a month's time in Marseilles. Éponine wanted to smile at the two of them. They certainly had missed each other very much. _Monsieur_ Combeferre also gave her a warm hug, whispering in her ear to take care of his dear friend.

And with that, Combeferre departed. Enjolras noticeably deflated a little bit, but distracted himself by returning to his conversation with Luc and the baker. Éponine, for some reason, had a feeling that she would be seeing _Monsieur_ Combeferre much sooner than a month's time, though she did not know why.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** This is the first time that all five of the main canon characters (Enjolras, Éponine, Combeferre, Joly, and Musichetta) are together in the same room, since Chapter 11! Huzzah!

Anyway… I was not kidding, was I, when I said there was A LOT of Enjolras/Combeferre? I LOVE them so much. Honestly, if I were to slash Enjolras with someone, it'd be Combeferre. But I am a Combeferre multi-shipper anyway. I can see him with Enjolras, Éponine, or Joly. My OT3, I think, is Éponine/Enjolras/Combeferre.

In terms of Combeferre's family history, I've wanted him to be simultaneously his mother's only and youngest son, which is why he is easily her favorite and why she is very proud of him and indulges his desire to go into the medical field. But at the same time, it seems fitting for Combeferre's personality to have a younger sibling and to not actually be his father's only son, which is why I have come up with the illegitimate brother. I think given who Combeferre is, he would absolutely want to share his wealth with his brother, much to the ire of the rest of his family. Mathieu, by the way, is inspired by Gendry, the blacksmith and bastard son of King Robert Baratheon from _A Song of Ice and Fire_ series / _Game of Thrones_ TV show. Love those books / that show.

There was a tiny bit of Gabrielle/Jacques for those of you who like them ;-). I'm so proud that I got some of you to ship my OCs, hee. There'll be a bit more of them in the next chapter.

Much foreshadowing here. Let's see if you guys can guess where I am going with this…

There was barely any straight-up Enjolras/Éponine scene, I know, but hopefully you enjoyed all the times they talk and think of each other. The next chapter will have a good scene between them, I think.

As usual, please review if you can. I love to hear your feedback. THANKS!


	35. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer: **_Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes:** HAPPY BARRICADE DAY! Though… _Happy_ Barricade Day? Not sure if 'happy' is the word I'd use for it. Despite the fact that this rebellion was a failure ('rebellion', remember, not 'revolution'?) and was quite minor in the grand scheme of French revolutionary history, thanks to Victor Hugo's glorious brick of a novel, it is nevertheless known to us, 181 years on. I think that is brilliant. So this chapter is my contribution to Barricade Day (And D-Day, because where I am, it's already June 6th). All I can say is that this chapter again contains MUCH É/E fluff. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 35**

A scandal broke out in _Petit-Picpus_ a few days after Combeferre's visit. Thankfully, it had nothing to do with the schoolgirls' frequent treks to the Rimbaud bakery after hours.

Well, not entirely…

As it turned out, tired of having her correspondence barred from reaching its destination, Renata's lover hatched a plan to break her out of the convent. No one knew _how_ she did it precisely, but one morning, they all woke up to Renata's empty bed with a note pinned to the pillow, upon which she had scribbled the words, "_Vive l'amour, la fille, la révolution!_"

The story spread wildly among the girls. There were rumors that Renata had a lover on the outside, though only a few whispers implied that it might have been another woman. Her parents were of course absolutely livid when they found out and the prioress furiously tightened the security on the covent as a result.

Justine cared very little about the rumors of Renata's sexual orientation. She only bemoaned the fact that the other girl had to pick such a dramatic way to make her exit, which was making it more difficult for the rest of them to slip out. How was she going to see _Monsieur_ Émile now? The Morels were on alert and refused point blank to let the girls out.

Gabrielle was also despairing the fact that she would not be able to meet with Jacques as often. The last time she saw him, they shared their first kiss. Well, it was her first kiss _ever_, really, and it was _wonderful_. It was not like she had imagined it, not really. It was wet and soft and nice, but it also surprised her how easy it was. Before, when she had discussed it at length with Justine, they would fret about how to tilt their head a certain way or where they should put their hands or whether they should capture the other person's bottom or top lip. What if they forgot a step? Now that she had experienced it, Gabrielle realized that there was no time to think, really, but that the whole thing just came naturally to her anyway.

While the kissing was amazing, she really just wanted to see Jacques and spend time with him. Unfortunately, she could not confess to the Morels that she was anxious to go to the bakery because she was missing _their _son. They were still not aware of her relationship with him and she had a feeling that they would not approve. Not because they did not like _her_, but simply because if _her parents_ ever found out, then the Morels would be left without a job and with a broken-hearted son, as she would surely be whisked away.

This was why Gabrielle found that being in love was an experience that was both exhilarating and anxiety-ridden. The only way she could be with Jacques in the long run was if they went away together. He had a bit of money saved up and she also had some allowance stashed away. If she could get herself hired as a governess, perhaps with a classmate's family somewhere, then they could leave. He said that he would come with her. Masons could get a job almost anywhere, he claimed. But they would have to keep things under wraps and make their move before her parents had even a whiff of suspicion for her plans. Gabrielle realized that she and Jacques had only known each other for a short time and that they had vastly different backgrounds. Nevertheless, she found it so easy to be around him, like they had a connection that was beyond explanation and the logic of time…

Gabrielle did wonder whether she might just be caught up in her first whirlwind romance. Perhaps she was not thinking straight, so she consulted Justine, who was showing herself to be more sober about all things lately. Thankfully, her best friend was supportive and only cautioned her to be extremely cautious with her correspondence, as the nuns might be monitoring it more closely now. Justine also still had her boldly romantic sensibilities, as it turned out, because she was most in favor of Gabrielle's plan to escape with Jacques one day, even coming up with suggestions on how they might go about it.

Around the same time that things unfolded in _Petit-Picpus_, there was also news of a minor scuffle on a nearby building site. A number of masons ceased work in a dispute over dangerous working conditions, citing several laws that were in their favor. It was a most peculiar incident, because though it was resolved rather quickly, there was much curiosity all-round as to where the workers learned about the codes that were used to argue their cause.

Luc, emboldened by the masons, took some of the older _gamins_ and went off to face the new neighborhood thug, who went by the name Darien, reportedly a pseudonym that came about because it sounded similar to '_de rien_', meaning 'you're welcome', because people were compelled to say 'thank you' after dealing with him (regardless of whether or not their experience had been a positive or negative one), and 'of nothing', because he seemed to have come out of thin air, like a menacing ghost. Well, it went by as expected, with Luc and his companions sporting bruises and bloody noses and broken teeth when they returned to the bakery. _Monsieur_ Rimbaud had had to call the local physician to treat the wounds and Joly later helped out as well when he arrived in the evening.

All of these were not coincidences, but were rather a series of events sparked by the couple residing on the top floor of the Rimbaud bakery. However, on this particular morning, the pair in question was blissfully not thinking about these occurrences, but were rather caught up in each other.

Well, Éponine was already awake and observing Enjolras' sleeping form. The latter _was_ dreaming of something, possibly Éponine, though of course she had no way of knowing that. Ever since the cast was removed, Enjolras had gotten into the habit of sleeping on his side, seemingly making up for all the past months when he could not. Most of the time, he would hold her from behind, his face buried in her hair and his arms around her middle. The weather had gotten cooler, so it was particularly cozy for them to be wrapped up in each other all night.

This specific morning, however, Enjolras was lying on his side and Éponine was not in his arms. Instead, she too was resting on her side, facing him. Somewhere during the night, he had nevertheless reached over the gap between them and hooked his arm on her waist in an almost possessive manner. Éponine smiled at the gesture and at him, who looked so serene and beautiful, with the sun coming in from behind him, framing his hair like a halo.

_How could a man be this beautiful?_ she wondered. Enjolras had such perfect features. Straight nose, long lashes, full lips… Lips that he claimed never touched anyone else's before hers, lips that apparently belonged just to her, lips that she was so tempted in kissing right now…

But that would wake him up and she was perfectly happy with just watching him sleep. She traced the outline of his face with her fingers, not quite touching him. He was breathing softly and barely moving. It was in sleep that he still resembled that marble statue moniker, though by now she no longer thought of him as such. No, he was very much human, with all too human desires, she knew that firsthand. She too was very much eager to make love to him and find out for herself if it was true what Musichetta had once told her, that it was different when one was in love with one's lover…

Speaking of whom, Enjolras must have sensed her fingers hovering, because Éponine was surprised when he opened his eyes and caught her hovering hand.

"Good morning."

As always, he already seemed fully alert and fresh-faced. Éponine did not know how he managed to do that, to look so good immediately upon waking up.

"Morning."

"Watching me sleep?" He pulled her hand to rest against his chest.

"Yes. You look nice when you sleep."

"As opposed to when I am awake?"

"You look nice _always_, Enjolras. You know that."

"And you look beautiful like this, Éponine."

He really did think she looked incredible with the sun coming in from behind him and illuminating her face. When she smiled at him, she appeared even more radiant. He could not resist leaning over and kissing her softly.

"This really is a good morning," she said, chuckling a little. "Do you hear that?"

"I don't hear anything."

"Exactly. The children are not awake yet, which means," she reached over and captured his lips again. "We have some time to do this…" She was leaning over him, pinning him down on the bed, and started trailing kisses down his face and onto his neck.

"Are you marking me?" Enjolras asked, running his fingers through her hair, pulling it slightly so she would look up at him.

"What if I am? You are mine, are you not?"

Enjolras felt rather… _exhilarated_ by her words. He had never thought of himself as being able to be _owned_ by anyone, or that he would actually _like _it, but he really was Éponine's. To tease, tempt, and love as she pleased.

"Yes."

"And I am yours too," she said. She had raised her head so that she was looking down on him. Her cheeks were colored pink and he thought that she looked entirely desirable. "Do you like that?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then I am definitely marking you." She went back to sucking on that particular spot on his neck.

He was powerless to stop her. "At least find a place that is not _too_ obvious, please."

Éponine giggled a little, "But I like _this_ spot." She pulled herself back up again, with one hand propped on the bed beside his shoulder and the other arm resting on his chest, her fingers caressing what he presumed to be the new love bite on his neck.

"You are _too much_ for me sometimes, Éponine." he said, cupping her face in his hands. "I cannot wait until we are out of here and on our own again."

"Tsk-tsk. Eager, aren't you?"

"Aren't _you_?"

Éponine had a wicked gleam in her eyes, "As much as I'd like to _take_ you until you are _spent_, Enjolras, I rather like watching you squirm like this."

He really did love that mouth of hers, both for the words that come out of it and what she could do to him with it. And seeing as he was no longer anchored down by the cast, he had the opportunity to take the upper hand for once. So he did.

Before she realized what was happening, he had flipped their positions so he was almost completely on top of her. Éponine laughed in delight. He went to work straight away, to mark her in return, but he had picked a spot high on her neck, just below her ear, which tickled her, so she could not stop giggling.

He placed a hand over her mouth and tried to shush her, lest she roused the _gamins_. Her eyes lit up as she took the opportunity to kiss the inside of his palm, tongue darting out to lick the skin. She seemed to be challenging him to find another method to keep her quiet.

Well, there really was one other effective way… He replaced his hand with his lips and the giggles soon gave way to soft moans. Her hands were on his back, moving down gradually, and he was practically lying on top of her, their bodies molded together. It would be so easy to just—

But no.

They couldn't. Not right now, when the children would be up soon. The older ones knew enough to offer them privacy, but some of the younger ones were starting to think of them as their parents, whose bed they could jump into in the morning.

With much difficulty, Enjolras extricated himself from where he was and lay back down on his side of the bed. They were both breathing very heavily and feeling quite hot. Éponine unmistakably groaned.

"It seems that I am not the only one who can do some _teasing_ around here."

"Éponine..." He started turning towards her.

She stopped him with a hand on his chest, "Hang on. If you want me to calm down, I just have to lie here for a second and stare at the ceiling." And indeed she was decidedly not looking at him, but was gazing upwards.

Enjolras had to chuckle at her as he lay back down. He too had to take some time to settle himself. After a few minutes of silence, he finally said, "I am sorry, Éponine. But the _gamins_ may wake up any minute now."

"Oh, yes, I understand that."

He turned to face her, looking worried, "You do not mind, do you? About them staying here, I mean?"

She mirrored his position and said with a smile, playing with his collar, "Well, I cannot lie and say that it has not been… _frustrating _for me, not being able to be _amorous_ with you as much as I'd like. But no, of course not. How can I begrudge them a safe shelter? Especially since I have been where they are."

"And they respect you because of it. Luc, in particular, seems to really listen to you."

"He listens to you too. He is quite the rascal though, isn't he? I gave him an earful the other night when he came back all bloodied like that. What was he thinking, taking those other children and facing that thug on their own? The best way to survive in the streets is to not attract attention to yourself, he knows that. He needs to think about his sister more."

The old Enjolras would have spouted off about the values of valor, of standing up for oneself, but the new him realized that one must sometimes pick one's battles and in this matter Éponine knew what she was talking about. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt a nagging unease at the thought that her brother died for showing that same courage. Would it have made a different had Enjolras been different back then? He let Gavroche stay at the barricade because he saw that the boy was brave and wanted to contribute in some way, particularly after Enjolras had sent his sister away to be saved. Did Gavroche think he owed him then? Should he have insisted that the _gamin_ leave? Did he have that right? If he had done, Éponine might still have her brother…

"What is it? You look… stormy," said Éponine, watching his face.

"Forgive me, Éponine. I am just thinking of your brother."

"Oh."

"I was just thinking that perhaps I should have sent him away with you and Combeferre and Joly."

"I do not think you could have," Éponine said with a rueful smile. "Knowing my brother, there was nothing you could have said that would have made him leave. He possibly saw that you were two men down, in trying to save me, and realized that you needed every person. Gavroche was the bravest boy I knew. He would not have abandoned you or your friends."

"I am sorry all the same, Éponine. If it were not for me and my fight, you and he would still have each other."

Éponine placed a hand on his cheek, "It is not your fault that he ended up in the streets. You gave him hope, something to believe in, I do not think that should be taken lightly. If anyone is to blame for Gavroche's fate, it is my parents. They threw him out when he was very young…" She hesitated then, before saying the next words, "And I did nothing to stop them, so it is my responsibility as well. I was young then and very much selfish. I was scared that I would share his fate. But that is no excuse. I was his big sister. I should have protected him."

Enjolras was unsure of how to reply, so he took her hand from his cheek and kissed it in what he hoped to be a comforting manner. Finally, he said, "It seems that we both feel responsible for him. I do not think it is your fault, Éponine. As you said, you were only a child then. What _could_ you have done?"

"I could have come with him," she said quietly. "Do you know? In a way, I envied Gavroche a bit. He might have to fend off for himself ever since he was much too young, but at least he was not seventeen years old and still under our father's thumb. I do not wish to romanticize what happened to him, but in the streets, Gavroche at least had what I never did until recently: Freedom from our parents. And for that, I am glad."

"I must admit that I am also happy to see that you have broken away from your parents, Éponine. I hope that we do not ever run into your father, but if we do, know that I will be there by your side, in whatever way you need me."

Éponine smiled at him in response and gave him a soft kiss, "I love you so very much, do you know that?"

Enjolras gazed at her, lying there in front him with her face lighting up like that and her fingers still tangled with his, and thought that he had never been this happy in his life. He finally understood why people would live and die for love... He felt that he would do _anything_ for her.

"I like seeing you smile," she said, not quite needing to hear him say those words back, because they were already written all over his face.

"You do this to me, Éponine."

She giggled a little, "Me? I am just a simple girl from the streets. You are the handsome, marble statue of the Greek god Apollo—"

"I hate that moniker."

"—Or the great, inspirational teacher, _Monsieur_ Émile. Either way, it must be puzzling to people how you have ended up with someone like me."

She did not say it to be self-deprecating, but was rather just teasing him and the images he gave out in public, but he frowned all the same, "Why? Did someone say something demeaning to you?"

He looked like he was ready to punch this hypothetical someone in the face. Éponine laughed lightheartedly, "No, do not worry, Enjolras. Nobody has been rude to me. And if they have, I know how to handle them. Besides, most of the people who come here think that we are from the same station. It will be a different matter, I think, if they find out that you are an aristocrat."

Enjolras sighed from being reminded of that wretched status of his, "The _gamins_ seem to know though. Luc has hinted enough, though he has never asked me outright how I came to be here."

"Yes, he also knows that _Messieurs_ Combeferre and Joly are not medics from the army. He tries to dig the truth from me sometimes, but I have not told him the full story. I think we can trust him though. He is very fascinated and rather impressed with you so far. You are breaking all of his pre-conceived ideas about how a nobleman was supposed to be like."

"Do you think I should caution him against being too bold? You said so yourself that he was being quite foolish in going up against this new crime boss."

"It might not hurt. From what Luc tells me, this man is not foolish. The _gamins_ would be better off staying out of his sight, at least until the police has put away enough members of his gang. I cannot believe that I am putting my faith in the police, but _Monsieur_ Rimbaud says that the police inspector around here is someone who has been very effective in rounding up the local criminal element."

Enjolras nodded, "I hope these children will be fine when we do leave. I am rather worried that most of them have grown attached to us."

"Yes, there is one who called me '_Maman_' the other day. I think the sooner we can tell them of our plans the better."

"I do not look forward to what Luc will say," said Enjolras, frowning slightly. "He might think that I have agreed to take in the children only to abandon them."

"Urchins are tougher than they look, Enjolras. They will be fine." Éponine was suddenly reminded of something she had been meaning to bring up with Enjolras and had now been provided with the perfect opening, "On the other hand, I think your leaving will be harder on the schoolgirls. Justine, in particular…"

The frown went deeper, "But she has not been able to see me anyway, because of the situation at the convent. Do you not think she will be fine with speaking to me only by letters? I intend to maintain correspondence with her, under a disguised name, of course." Then something Combeferre said occurred to him, "You do not object to this, do you, Éponine?"

"To you maintaining contact with her? No, why would I be?"

"Just something Combeferre said… Apparently, because Justine is another young lady, you might mind?"

Éponine grinned at him, "_Monsieur_ Combeferre was worried I might be jealous? That is sweet of him, but no, I trust you, Enjolras. Besides, I never get the feeling that Justine wants to… _unseat_ me from my place. Well, maybe at the start… But not anymore. In fact, do you want to know what's peculiar?"

"What is it?"

"She seems to be rather jealous of _Monsieur_ Combeferre when he was here. Like she was envious of the bond and history that you and he have. It is interesting, no?"

Enjolras looked perplexed, "But Combeferre and I have known each other for a long time now. He is my most trusted friend. She cannot expect to have the same connection with me like I have with Combeferre. It does not mean that I do not also cherish my relationship with her though."

"Yes, you are possibly her first significant relationship with a man. Though it is not a romantic one, I can understand why she might be possessive of you. This is all the more reason you need to give her fair warning before you leave, Enjolras."

"Well, I hope she finds a way to get out of the convent soon. I'd like to tell her in person if I could."

"This added security at _Petit-Picpus_ is really a nuisance. I will try again today to see _Monsieur_ Valjean."

"Thank you, Éponine. I am keen for him to read my letter and to hear back from him. I think he should also be able to pass on those extra identity papers that he said we could use." Enjolras did not add that he had specifically requested for ones that aged the two of them up, so that they would not need parental consent if (or when) they decided to get married...

"How goes your manuscript for _Monsieur_ Valjean's life?"

"Progressing well. He has imparted his story right up to when Cosette and Marius were getting to know each other."

"Oh. That is good then. You are almost at the present moment." Éponine found that she no longer felt anything in particular at the reference of Marius and Cosette falling in love with each other. She had a memory of it being a not so pleasant time for her, but she could honestly say that she was able to think about it now in the same way that she would of anyone else's love affair.

"Indeed." Enjolras was relieved to see her reaction, or lack thereof, at the mention of Marius and Cosette. He was about to say something more, but the children picked that time to finally barge in their door and run up to their bed.

Éponine smiled at him in that special way of hers before rising and greeting the little urchins. He did not know it yet, but he was about to use that image of Éponine and of their time this morning in bed to sustain him for the weeks to come.

* * *

In hindsight, Enjolras should have known that things were going _too well_. He should have realized that he was tempting fate by staying here too long and doing all the things he did. He should have seen them coming…

The police arrived for him late at night. Thankfully, the schoolgirls were not there, still confined at the convent, and most of the masons had gone home, leaving only a few stragglers, the _gamins_, and Joly and Musichetta.

The first sign that something was wrong was the mighty ruckus that could be heard outside. Joly had time to peek out the window to see what appeared to be figures in uniform standing in front of the bakery. There were also shouts from downstairs, comprising of the voices of _Monsieur_ and _Madame _Rimbaud mixed in with other men's. Before anyone in the room had managed to do anything though, several police officers appeared in the doorway, headed by a man who could only be the inspector.

Éponine experienced a split second where she thought that they might have been here for the _gamins_, but no, of course not. Who cared about street urchins when there was a bigger prize in the room? She looked on with horror as the man addressed Enjolras directly.

"Émile Enjolras?"

Enjolras appeared defiant and confirmed his identity straight away. What else could he do? He was caught. The man knew precisely who he was.

Éponine again had another fleeting bout of confusion. He was called by _both _of his pseudonyms. Was he being arrested for his current undertakings or the events at the barricade? But of course, she realized a moment later that Émile had been Enjolras' real first name all along. She could not believe that it never occurred to her.

The police inspector asked Enjolras to rise and declared that he was arresting him. Éponine stood up with Enjolras, intending to fight this or to come along with him, though at the back of her mind, she knew that it was futile. Her focus was entirely on Enjolras. She barely registered how the other police officers were cordoning off the room, pushing the other bystanders behind them, so that the inspector had a clear path through which he could escort Enjolras out.

Musichetta appeared beside Éponine and tried to hold her back. Joly and _Monsieur_ Rimbaud, who were near the door, were shouting something at the nearest uniformed men. The other stragglers and the _gamins_, Luc in particular, were pushing back on the officers who had formed a human wall between them and Enjolras.

Throughout all this, Enjolras and Éponine somehow still managed to hold on to each other's hands. They only realized that their link was about to be severed when the inspector started leading Enjolras away. He looked around in concern as the uproar in the room grew louder. He put both his hands up to try and calm them down, lest they be arrested too. Then he looked at Éponine, who appeared devastated, but also defiant. He imagined that he had the same expression on his face.

_The two of them survived the barricade. They will find some way to overcome this_.

They did not even need to dramatically shout their love to each other because they already knew it. Instead, Enjolras just nodded at her, telling her to stay strong, though there was no doubt in his mind that she would, as Éponine was the most fearless person he had ever encountered. She nodded back, her lips set, assuring him that she would find some way to get him out of this.

Then, when he was at the door and about to be out of sight, Enjolras suddenly remembered something important.

He shouted, "Éponine, tell Marius—"

But the police officers pulled him away and Éponine never heard the end of the sentence. It did not matter though. She knew what he meant.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **DUM, DUM, DUM… I know, I know! I'm sorry, don't hate me, but I've been planning on Enjolras getting arrested for a while now. It's how I've always intended for it to go down. I realize that some of you may be upset, but please _trust me_. Feel free to send me a message, though, if you're worried and wish to chat.

So Enjolras' name is really Émile. I once asked tumblr folks what they thought Enjolras' first name should be and I got some really great choices with thoughtful meanings. Here, check it out:

caderyn dot tumblr dot com slash post slash 45992402834 slash enjolras-first-name

In the end, I have a very specific reason for going with Émile, which I will fully reveal in later chapters. For now though, I can tell you that I initially chose Émile (in Chapter 11) because of Rousseau's book _Émile_. Éponine assumed Enjolras did too, which is why it didn't occur to her that it might have been his name all along. I like the irony that Enjolras went into hiding to be known by his first actual name. It might seem reckless, but you have to remember that 1) Enjolras was only supposed to remain in the convent, confined to his room, not meeting anyone new, and 2) he was also very disheartened at the time, because he was about to go into exile, and so wanted to be daring and find some way to re-assert his identity. In my headcanon, Combeferre would have advised Enjolras against using his actual first name, but eventually indulged him when the latter argued that he was going to be secluded in the convent anyway. This is why Combeferre was quite worried in the previous chapter when he saw how all these people were gathering in that apartment for "_Monsieur_ Émile".

Nevertheless, I hope you did enjoy the fluffy É/E (or É/É, hee) bits I added earlier on. I figured they were owed a happy moment before I put them through the final scene. I had wanted them to talk about Gavroche for a while though, so hopefully I did it justice. Ditto for Justine, though to a lesser extent.

On the OC front, there were only minor Renata, Justine, Gabrielle/Jacques, and Luc scenes at the start. I had to lead with those, as they're all catalysts for events to come (or they were events whose catalysts were É/E, hmmm).

Anyway, at this point, I should ask if any of you are familiar with French laws (particularly in terms of the prison and court systems) in the 1830s? If you are, message me. Otherwise, I'll write the next chapters based on my best guess.

I'll be on holidays from Saturday next week, so hopefully I can get at least one more chapter out before then. Afterwards, I will try to continue writing, but the updates would not likely be as quick.

Okay, this A/N is long enough. What do you think?


	36. Chapter 36

**Disclaimer: **_Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras. Also contains Éponine/Musichetta, Éponine/Joly, and Éponine/Marius friendships.

**Author's Notes:** WOW. Don't think any of you saw the arrest coming! I got many responses saying that they love me but they hate me, hahaha… I'm sorry. Please trust me :-). But seriously, I am floored by all the awesome feedback I got for the last chapter. THANK YOU SO MUCH! Hopefully I can live up to it! So without further ado, enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 36**

In the aftermath, there was much speculation among those present during the arrest as to what happened and how it came to be. While most just wished to find out who Enjolras actually was, Joly and Musichetta wanted to know who reported their friend to the police. Their best guess was that this new thug somehow figured out who Enjolras was and struck a deal with the inspector in exchange for some of his men who were currently in custody. What were a few petty criminals compared to a political fugitive, sought for treason, apparently responsible for one of the barricades in the recent rebellion? That would surely buy the ambitious inspector several pats on the back from his superiors… But this was only a speculation, based on what they knew of this gang leader called Darien. It could have just as easily been any other person who had come into contact with Enjolras as _Monsieur_ Émile. They supposed they would never really know, would they?

Éponine was less concerned with how Enjolras got caught and more with how she would get him out. What _could_ she do? Her practical brain weighed her options, though Enjolras' parting words narrowed down her priorities:

_Tell Marius—_

She knew straight away what he'd meant: 'Tell Marius about Jean Valjean.'

With Enjolras' apprehension, _Monsieur_ Valjean had also just been exposed for falsely claiming a fugitive to be his grandson and for bringing this known criminal into the convent. His days in _Petit-Picpus_ would surely be over once the prioress had heard about the arrest, which would could be as soon as daybreak, since a scandal as big as this was bound to rouse the neighborhood's curiosity and excitement.

Despite the promise to _Monsieur_ Valjean, Éponine had no choice then but to tell Marius the whole truth, including the fact that his soon-to-be father-in-law was responsible for rescuing him from the barricade. Knowing Marius, he would certainly be moved to take Cosette and collect her father from the convent, regardless of the man's criminal past or whatever risk he might pose to his fiancée in the future.

On top of that though, Éponine also remembered that Marius was a lawyer, which was coincidentally the one person of whom Enjolras was in dire need presently. He would likely be able to help find way to get the other man out. And even if he could not, he should know someone who would.

So that was settled then. The first thing Éponine would do in the morning was go find Marius.

_Monsieur_ Joly had earlier spared her the effort of explaining tonight's dramatic event by asking Musichetta to take her to the bedroom, while he dealt with the questions from the remaining guests. For the past few minutes, the _grisette_ had been sitting with her on the bed in silent support, with an arm around her shoulders, as Éponine processed what happened.

When Enjolras was being taken away, Musichetta was swift to hold the other girl back, fearing for an instant that Éponine would re-enact the fate of her namesake and her husband Sabinus by asking to be arrested with Enjolras. Musichetta would never forgive herself for giving Éponine that book if that was the case. Fortunately, it appeared that Éponine was holding herself together well, though she had not said a word since the police left.

Some of younger urchins had also followed the pair to the bedroom and were now sitting on the floor, gazing at the two women. They might not have understood why their teacher had been arrested, but they had been in the streets long enough to recognize that it was not a good thing when the police came and took you away.

Though he was eager to speak with Éponine, Luc had stayed back in the living room to hear _Monsieur_ Joly explain _Monsieur_ Émile's— No, _Monsieur_ Enjolras' true identity, which turned out to be more magnificent than Luc could have ever imagined. If the _gamin_ ever doubted that the man had any guts to act on his words, he would not do so again. He felt a great sense of respect for his teacher and wished to see him again soon, so that he could shake his hand. The boy could also not wait to speak to Justine somehow and lord it over her the fact that he had been able to call out _Monsieur_ Enjolras' true roots when she could not. She was in for quite a shock, he thought. It was not everyday that an upper class _Mademoiselle_ like her would find herself linked to a firebrand revolutionary leader and criminal…

Earlier, Luc had also sent a few urchins to follow the group of police escorting _Monsieur_ Enjolras away. They came back now to report that he had been taken to _La Force_ prison. The _gamin_ leader took the news himself to Éponine, who just nodded in recognition. She had more than a cursory familiarity with the place, as her father was once held there. There was likely nothing she could do for Enjolras at the moment and no chance that she would be able to see him tonight, so the best thing for them both was if she tried to get some rest and contact Marius tomorrow.

She told Musichetta and Luc of her plans in the morning and then announced that she was going to bed. Luc took the _gamins_ away to give Éponine some privacy and to let her sleep. Musichetta offered Éponine to come stay with her and Joly tonight, if she did not wish to be alone, but the other girl declined, saying that she just wanted to rest. The _grisette_ nodded, but told her friend that she would get Joly to accompany her to see Marius. He knew where the other man worked after all. That way, Éponine would not even need to go to his grandfather's place to find out. Éponine thanked her, agreeing that it was a good plan.

After Musichetta had left to return to the living room, Éponine started changing for bed. It was an odd sensation, being here without Enjolras. His things were everywhere: Jacket strewn over the chair, papers and pens littering the desk, a certain book that he was reading on the bedside table. They were all making her heart ache a little. Despite the grave circumstances, she still felt optimistic that they would find a way to get him out, but it was nevertheless difficult seeing the empty room and knowing that he would not be here tonight.

Without much conscious thought on her part, she picked up his sleepshirt and changed into it. If he could not hold her tonight, at least she could be comforted by his scent as she fell asleep. She also switched her pillow for his and tried not to think about how the bed felt much colder now that he was not there beside her. Her final thought, before she surrendered to slumber, was if she should start referring to Enjolras as Émile. That was his name, after all, and he had somehow found a way to get her accustomed to using it all this time. She sounded out his first and last names in turn, trying to see what she would be more comfortable with, but the one that was sighed through her lips as she fell asleep was, "_Enjolras_."

* * *

True to Musichetta's word, Joly came by very early in the morning, just around the time the bakery opened. Éponine was already awake anyway, having had a restless sleep. She could barely stand the sight of Enjolras' empty side of the bed when she woke up. Thankfully, she soon found that she was not in fact alone in bed, as two of the smallest _gamins_ — Luc's sister, Mireille, and the boy who called Éponine '_Maman_' — had gone and curled themselves at the foot of the bed some time during the night. When Éponine rolled over, she saw that Luc had also fallen asleep on the floor next to her side of the bed. She had to smile at the gesture. That was very sweet of the children to try and keep her company while she slept. She stepped over Luc carefully and all the other slumbering urchins in the living room to go down and get some water for her washing.

By the time she was ready and had wrapped up the item she needed to take to Marius, all the _gamins_ had risen and were sitting around in the living room wanting to talk to her. She did not have much time to do so, however, as Joly soon arrived, carrying several loaves of bread, which he distributed to the children for their morning meal.

"How are you, Éponine?"

She gave him a small smile, "As well as can be expected, considering."

"Have you eaten? Please have a bit breakfast. You shall need your energy, I suspect." He split some bread with her and they sat there for a little bit, chewing quietly.

Joly then asked Luc to keep a lookout in the neighborhood, in case _Monsieur_ Valjean left the convent before his future son-in-law arrived. _Monsieur_ Rimbaud had agreed to host Jean Valjean in the top-floor apartment, if that was the case. The baker would make sure to tell the other man that his daughter, Cosette, would be on her way to get him, so that he'd be convinced to stay. Joly and Musichetta actually did not know that Cosette's father was at the convent all this time or that he had left in the first place because of his troubled past, but it did not matter much to them anyway. They agreed that telling Marius was the best plan.

With that settled, Joly and Éponine departed. On the way, he mentioned to her that he had gotten a courier last night to take the news to Combeferre, who he suspected would still be on his way home, so it was not likely that the latter would make it back to Paris very soon, especially if his mother did indeed pass away. Nevertheless, Joly thought it important that Combeferre find out about the arrest as soon as possible.

Marius was working in one of the better law offices in town, his grandfather having pulled some strings to get him the job, on the argument that he needed to have a good, steady income to provide for his soon-to-be wife, which was true, Marius supposed, so he relented on that front. As luck would have it, he was on his way to the office when Joly and Éponine came upon him in the street.

Feeling extremely surprised at seeing the two together and with such a grave expression on their faces, Marius quickly told his office that he was coming in late due to an emergency and suggested that they all went to a nearby café to talk.

It was quite bizarre for Éponine to be sitting here with Marius. He looked very well, healthy and happy, with no trace of the injuries he sustained at the barricade. When he greeted her earlier, she experienced a good sense of familiarity at being in his embrace, but she no longer felt her heart speeding up, or her stomach twisting, or any of the general nervousness she used to feel when she was around him. In fact, her mind returned to Enjolras quite swiftly, wondering how she was going to break the entire news to Marius. There was much that he needed to hear…

Meanwhile, Marius was thinking similar thoughts, that, apart from the worried look she was currently sporting, Éponine appeared extremely well, almost unrecognizable from the impoverished _gamine_ he once knew. If he had passed her on the street, he would have taken her for a well-to-do _grisette_, not unlike Joly's mistress, _Mademoiselle_ Musichetta. Speaking of whom, Marius quickly wondered what Joly was doing here with Éponine. Last he heard, she had gone away with Enjolras somewhere, which he thought was a curious development. He did not think the two of them were even acquainted before the barricade fell…

"You must be curious as to why we are here right now—" Joly started, but Éponine cut him off when she finally spoke up, "Marius, the police has captured Enjolras."

Marius looked alarmed straight away, "What? When?"

"Last night. They took him to _La Force_ prison," said Éponine.

"That is why we have come to you, _mon ami_. Can you help? He will need a lawyer promptly."

Marius was quiet for a while, processing the information, "Knowing the charges… I am not sure I can defend him myself, but I will speak to some of the more senior partners in my office. I think we should be able go to the prison and see him today if he agrees to accept us as his lawyers."

"Of course he will," said Joly.

"Can you please take me with you?" asked Éponine. "I would very much like to see him."

"I am not sure. I suppose," replied Marius, looking puzzled. Éponine and Enjolras must have gotten very close, he thought, for her to be this anxious about him. "Usually, visitation rights would be reserved to lawyers only or close family members, such as a parent or a spouse."

Joly glanced at Éponine and thought that it'd be better if she told Marius this particular development. And indeed, the girl took a deep breath and then spoke in a resolute manner, "Marius, there is something you should know. Enjolras and I are… _romantically_ involved. We have been for some time now. And though we are not married, I have been pretending to be his wife ever since we left _Monsieur_ Combeferre's house together. When he got arrested, the police most likely thought that I was his wife, so maybe you can claim me as such when we go to the prison?"

Marius was astonished. He did not know what surprised him more, the fact that the stoic Enjolras had finally fallen for a woman or that she turned out to be his friend, Éponine, who once was in love with him. Now that he thought about it though, the possibility should have perhaps occurred to him when he heard that Éponine had come with Enjolras into hiding…. Marius could only feel happy for them both, as he did not relish the thought of the girl anguishing in a heartbreak over him and he believed that she as well as Enjolras deserved some love after what they'd experienced at the barricade. If Éponine had told him under different circumstances, Marius would have been extremely joyous and congratulated her most ardently. As such, the grave reality was, they had now been separated from each other by some rather serious criminal charges. The least that he could do was help fix the situation.

"I am genuinely very happy to hear that the two of you have found each other, Éponine," he finally said. "I will of course try my best to see that you are reunited with him."

"Thank you, Marius. I very much appreciate it," Éponine said with a small smile before growing serious again. "But that is not all I have to tell you, I am afraid. Do you not wonder where we have been all this time?"

Marius shared a look with Joly, "Combeferre mentioned that the two of you went away somewhere, but, no, I do not know where. He was being quite vague, so I thought it best not to ask for details."

"There is a reason for it," replied Éponine. "He and Enjolras sought the help of your future father-in-law, who took us with him when he went away to the convent where Cosette was once schooled. That is where he has been all this time, Marius. He pretended that Enjolras was his grandson and I _his_ wife, so that we were allowed to stay there."

"And with Enjolras' true identity revealed as a result of his arrest, there is a great likelihood that _Monsieur_ Valjean would be ejected from the convent for having lied and allowed a fugitive to be sheltered there," Joly added.

Marius looked stunned, as Joly had used the man's real name, "The two of you are aware, then, of his circumstances and the reasons for his leaving?"

"Yes. But there is more," said Éponine. "_Monsieur_ Valjean first told Enjolras the truth because they had met each other before… At the barricade, in fact, where he saved Enjolras' life and yours as well, Marius. It was he who brought you back to your grandfather's house. He made Enjolras swear not to tell you, because he was convinced that he had to stay away from your life and Cosette's. But _Monsieur_ Valjean needs you and her now more than ever. It was in fact the last thing Enjolras said to me, to make sure you would come collect _Monsieur_ Valjean before he disappears somewhere where he cannot be found." It was then that Éponine finally unwrapped the package that she had brought for Marius. "Enjolras wrote this, based on what _Monsieur_ Valjean told him of his life. Read it if you still need convincing that the man is a saint."

Marius was speechless, his hands flipping through the lengthy manuscript that Enjolras had written. So Jean Valjean was indeed his savior that night! He had suspected it, but had let the man go all the same. He cursed himself for that. He should have fought harder for him to stay. He should have seen that Cosette needed her father in her life. She was beside herself when she found out that he'd left without saying goodbye and had been lamenting the fact that he would not be at her wedding. Well, this was something that Marius intended to fix straight away.

"Where is he? Is he still at the convent?" he asked.

"He should be," said Joly. "The arrest only happened last night, so the prioress would not have heard the news until this morning. If you act fast, you should be able to find him before he has the chance to depart."

Marius appeared distracted, running through the different priorities in his mind. "All right. This is what I shall do. I will come in to the office and speak to the senior partners about Enjolras. They should be able to arrange a visit for us, Éponine, at _La Force_. While they do that, I will go home to collect Cosette and the two of us shall leave for the convent straight away. Oh, this shall be a most glorious news for her, to be reunited with her dear _papa_. How is he?"

"I have not seen him for a couple of days, unfortunately, but the last time I did, he _was_ looking rather worn out. I think he just misses his daughter terribly," said Éponine in a soft tone.

"Oh this is all my fault. I should not have never let him leave. I just hope that we are not too late. I do not think I can forgive myself if Cosette only had a short time to see her father again," Marius said in a slightly dramatic tone. Then something else occurred to him, "Wait… If you have been living in the convent all this time, Éponine, then how come you have not seen him for a while?"

"_Monsieur_ Valjean _has_ been there the entire time, but Enjolras and I… were made to leave about a month ago. We have been staying at an apartment nearby though, so that we could still be around him while Enjolras' leg heals."

Marius just nodded, "How is his injury? Has he recovered?"

It was Joly who answered, "Thankfully, the police got to him after the cast on his leg was removed. And he has been walking very well with the cane, which he fortunately also managed to take with him."

"I am glad to hear it." Marius then turned to Éponine, "Is that where I shall come get you? At this apartment near the convent?"

"Yes, look for the Rimbaud bakery. I reside on the top floor."

Marius was quiet again, seemingly contemplating something, "Will you be fine there all by yourself, Éponine? And the place is on the other side of the city from the prison. Would you… consider staying with me? It is closer to _La Force_. I'd imagine Cosette would want to live back home now with her father, but I am sure she will have no objection to you becoming my houseguest."

Éponine was taken aback by the offer. Once upon a time, her heart would have leapt at the opportunity to live with Marius. Now, though, she would just feel uncomfortable with staying at that grand house belonging to his grandfather, who she was not sure would be as welcoming of her presence as Marius was. So she declined politely, saying that she had many of the neighborhood children keeping her company at the moment.

Joly gave Marius a look, indicating it was too long a story to be delved into presently. One of these days, Marius would want to hear about what Enjolras and Éponine had been up to, but seeing as there were many pressing matters to attend presently, he told her that he would pick her up at her flat this afternoon to go to the prison.

And with that, the three of them broke up their meeting. Marius rushed to his office with Enjolras' manuscript in hand, while Joly and Éponine hailed a _fiacre_.

Once inside, Joly turned to Éponine with a smile, "That went rather well, don't you think?"

"Yes, I do feel better now that Marius knows what to do for _Monsieur_ Valjean and Enjolras."

"Something occurred to me earlier when he brought up your living arrangement. He _does_ have a point, Éponine, about your current lodging being very far from the prison and from the rest of us, in fact. I realize that you may not wish to live with Marius, and my place with Musichetta may indeed be too small to accommodate all three of us, but… Combeferre's house is currently uninhabited and I do have the key to it. I am sure he will not mind if you stay there. And it is quite close to mine, so Musichetta and I can come by more often to keep you company. You may even wish to invite some of the _gamins_ to accompany you if you'd like."

Éponine was ready to decline the request. She could not very well lodge herself in _Monsieur_ Combeferre's home without his permission, could she? But… She must admit that the thought of returning to that apartment, where she had so many fond memories of Enjolras and with his things still where he'd left them, was rather depressing. And Marius and _Monsieur_ Joly _were_ correct in remarking that the travel time between the bakery and the prison was a bit too lengthy.

Joly spoke again, because Éponine had not said anything, "_Monsieur_ Rimbaud told me that he is not concerned with the reasons for Enjolras' arrest — in fact, he seems to admire what Enjolras had done — so you are more than welcome to continue living there. But I am worried that if you remain too long in that neighborhood, the locals might start ogling you as the wife of that aristocratic fugitive who was caught so dramatically one night."

"Do you really think _Monsieur_ Combeferre would not mind?" she finally asked.

"Of course not! He would admonish me for not offering it to you. I do not know the precise state of his mother, so I am not sure how long it will take him to get back. You might have the place to yourself for a while." Joly contemplated whether he and Musichetta should also move in, to prevent Éponine from being alone.

Éponine took some more time to think about it. She would miss the children, the Rimbaud family, the schoolgirls, the Morels, and all the other people she had gotten to know since moving to the bakery. At the same time though, she wanted to be _physically_ closer to Enjolras, even when she could not be with him.

With that in mind, she told _Monsieur_ Joly that she would be very grateful to stay in _Monsieur_ Combeferre's home.

"Excellent. Shall we move you in today? I can help pack up and we can be there by lunchtime. I must remember to send a note to Marius though, so that he could come get you from Combeferre's place instead."

"Are you certain you can spare the time? Do you not have school or work?"

"No, I have cleared my schedule to keep you company today, Éponine," said Joly with a kind smile. "Musichetta will also join us as soon as she finishes work, that is if you and Marius have not left for the prison already. I might come and pick her up either way, so that she knows to go to Combeferre's place."

Éponine returned his smile, "Thank you, _Monsieur_. You have been so kind to me."

"Do not mention it. You and Enjolras are dear friends."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **No Enjolras in the chapter, sorry :-(, but hope you still liked how Éponine thought of him A LOT. He will be in the next chapter though. As usual, I had wanted this chapter to be longer, but this is already 4,000+ words as it stands! I wouldn't want to tire you (or myself) by posting such a lengthy chapter.

I must admit that I find Marius tough to write. I just do not connect to his character as much as the other ones in this fic. Hopefully, you still find his reactions to the news of É/E and Jean Valjean interesting though. I see Marius' response to É/E as representing that of the other _Les Amis_ boys, since he is one of the few who've known Enjolras from before the barricade and who is (y'know) still alive. Since I can't write them reacting to the news from the afterlife and being agog and aghast that Enjolras has finally been conquered by a woman, Marius will have to do it for them. Don't worry, there will be more, as Marius hasn't actually seen the couple in action, has he? ;-) Combeferre and Joly, of course, have also known Enjolras from back then, but they have been more-or-less present throughout Enjolras' "courtship" period with Éponine, so they are no longer quite so perplexed by the development.

In terms of Jean Valjean, here is my next divergence from canon. He will get to be reunited with Cosette before the wedding :-). I don't know, I just like the idea of them having more time together, since Cosette and Valjean's relationship is one of my favorites. With Marius, Cosette, and Valjean, I'm following more of the musical canon.

I'm writing the legal side of Enjolras' arrest based on my best guess. As far as I can tell, defendants had a right to an attorney under the Napoleonic Code and I am hedging my bet on the fact that they are also allowed a visitor (close family members). _La Force_ prison really did exist, apparently, and Thénardier was once held there.

I'm already in the middle of the next chapter, which is why I can tell you that Enjolras is in it, so please review to motivate me! I am aiming to publish the next one before I leave for my holidays on Saturday. What do you think of Éponine moving back to Combeferre's place?


	37. Chapter 37

**Disclaimer: **_Les Misérables_ and all its associated characters do not belong to me.

**Summary:** One inch was all it took for Éponine's life to be spared and it altered the fates of four people. Éponine/Enjolras.

**Author's Notes:** Thank you so much for the terrific responses! Got some excited new readers too, which is cool, because I would not think that a 36-chaptered, 150+k-worded fic would be something that a new reader would tackle, but I very much appreciate your enthusiasm all the same. This chapter should have come as a second part to the previous one, which is why I'm updating quite quickly. Hope you like it!

I forgot to say in the last A/N that my theme song for this chapter and the one before is "I Will Wait" by Mumford and Sons. It was basically my 2012 song and one I kept in mind while writing the two chapters. Also, I've passed 100,000 views on this fic! Amazing! Huzzah!

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**Chapter 37**

While Éponine was running around town with Joly, and Marius was reacting to the news of Jean Valjean, Enjolras only had his mind for company in his cell, which was actually quite decent, all things considered. It had a window and a small bed and he had it to himself. He supposed it was because he was a first-time offender and was only there in remand, not yet convicted of any crime. Furthermore, as much as he hated to admit it, the fact that they knew precisely who he was and his station in society might have also influenced his reasonable lodgings.

Still, there was no disguising the reality that he was in prison. He was reminded of that time he went out to the convent garden for the first time, after more than a month of being mostly confined inside. He recalled comparing his experience then to being incarcerated, though he also admitted that Éponine's company had made his time _vastly_ different to jail.

Well, she was no longer there with him, was she? It had not occurred to him until today, but he had not been without Éponine's presence _for a single day_ ever since they were both brought back from the barricade. And they had slept next to each other for the past two months now, so he had perhaps taken it for granted that it would continue on for many more in the future. Before, he was perfectly fine with sleeping alone. In fact, he had never shared his bed with anyone prior to her, so he had assumed that he would be reasonably fine with sleeping by himself again last night.

It was not so. To say that he missed her was an understatement. He _craved_ her presence. He wanted her warmth beside him, her soft body against his own, and her sweet scent filling up his nostrils. If he were given a chance to lie with her again, he would savor every moment, imprinting everything about her in his brain.

Suffice to say that Enjolras did not sleep well last night. And he had nothing to do today besides stare at the wall of his cell. He had been allowed to send for a lawyer, which he did, but he had somewhat taken care of that when he told Éponine to alert Marius, though his main purpose _was_ to let the latter know of Jean Valjean's whereabouts. He was quite certain that Éponine understood his meaning. He supposed he should probably just wait and see if Marius would show up.

He also hoped that someone had thought to send a message to Combeferre. Joly probably would. Enjolras could use his best friend back, though at the same time he would not wish to take Combeferre away from his mother and his family. It was a most inopportune time for Enjolras to be arrested, as far as Combeferre would be concerned, not that there was actually a _good_ time to be arrested…

Wishing to take his mind away from the thought of his friends, Enjolras decided to do his stretches. If nothing else, he could at least ensure that his healed leg did not become weaker in confinement. It was during one of these exercises that he was alerted of a visitor. The guard escorted him to the parlor, where Enjolras expected to see Marius (with Éponine, if he was lucky). Instead, he was greeted by someone whom he had not seen for many months now.

"Father," he said.

The older Enjolras replied gruffly to his son, "Émile."

The two men did not embrace each other, as it was not part of their usual greeting. Each took a seat across the other, a table separating them. He might have been imagining it, but Enjolras could swear that his father looked almost relieved to see him. Well, he _had_ been searching for him for a while now…

"How did you find out?" he asked in a neutral tone.

"I suspected that you might be apprehended eventually, so I've gotten some men to keep a lookout at the prisons. Imagine my delight, Émile, at waking up this morning to the news that you have been arrested at the other end of the city. If you insist on living a life of criminality, why stay in Paris? You could have at least made your way home."

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" Enjolras said in a harsher tone than he meant. "I was about to leave, father, but they caught me. I was not completely lying when I told you I had been injured. I broke my arm and leg at the barricade. Up until recently, I could barely walk."

And then his father exploded with something that could only be described as anger. Enjolras had never seen the man show this much emotion, so it took him by surprise, "What happened? How could you have gotten yourself involved in this nonsense?! They said that you led a group of students and workers to their deaths? And that you yourself killed soldiers? I have spared your mother the horrid details, Émile, but this is unacceptable. We have always known that you are a radical, but we thought that you had enough sense to stay away from such a useless and dangerous endeavor. Clearly, we underestimated you."

"I was fighting for this country, father." Enjolras said through gritted teeth. "I cannot comprehend your complete lack of care at the plight of multitudes that are still under the tyranny of—"

"What makes you that think this is _your_ fight, Émile? You have a good life. Why can't you be happy with it?"

Enjolras sighed in frustration. His father would never understand. They'd never had this fight so openly, but it was something that had bubbling in every one of their interactions ever since the younger man became politically aware. If his father had confronted him prior to his time at the barricade, Enjolras would have exploded with fury and stormed out (providing he could storm out and was not, as such, in jail). But now… He saw the futility of rage. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down and eventually said in an almost listless voice, "Just because your life or my life is good, father, does not mean that everyone else's is just as well. I was simply trying to fight for those who cannot."

The older Enjolras was silent for a while. He was not heartless. His son might not believe it, but he actually did recognize the other man's passion for social justice. He just wished that Émile would realize that he was simply one person, that he could not change the world, especially not in a way that was so reckless. It was a miracle that he did not get himself killed. Next time, he might not be so lucky. _Monsieur_ Enjolras did not wish to think about how close he came to losing his son. He was so relieved earlier when he saw that Émile still looked as physically strong as he always had, though he _was_ limping a little. In hindsight, he supposed that Émile being incarcerated _was_ a preferable outcome than death. And yet… It was still frustrating that Émile had created this scandal for the family, which was why the next thing he said possibly sounded more severe than he intended.

"Could you not have at least used a pseudonym, rather than tainting our good name?"

Enjolras snapped, "Oh, because that is your primary concern, isn't it? You will be fine with me doing what I did, getting people killed, shooting down soldiers, if I had just used a completely fake name. Well, father, you will be happy to know that I had actually gone by our last name only, based on what you keep telling me: '_The Enjolras name is plentiful in this country, but we are the only Émile Enjolras_'."

"I was told that when you were arrested, you were calling yourself Émile Fauchelevent."

"Yes. I used our last name only before and our first name after. Never together."

It was the kind of juvenile argument that was making the older Enjolras lose his almost-non-existent temper. Was Émile goading him? Did he do this purposely, because for some reason he hated his family legacy?

_Monsieur_ Enjolras fought to suppress his anger. There was no further use for it. The damage was done. Émile was in jail. The family name was tainted to an extent, but it was not beyond repairs. He needed to focus on what to do next, on how he could get his son out. If not for Émile or the family, then at least for his mother, who just wanted him home.

"I am going to hire you the best lawyer," his father said.

"Do not bother. I have already asked for my friend Marius. He is a recognized lawyer."

His father's eyes narrowed, "Your friend? How old is he?"

"He is my age."

"Then he cannot be such an experienced lawyer yet, can he? How many trials would he have seen? No, you need someone with experience. These are _very serious_ charges that you are facing. You might be looking at an extended jail time. Or worse."

"Marius is employed at a respectable firm. I am sure he can get the guidance of his more senior partners."

"Where does he work precisely?"

Enjolras told him, trying to prove his point that Marius must have had some skills to be hired there.

His father nodded, making a mental note of the name, "Then I shall have a talk to his superiors and see if I can persuade them to handle your case themselves."

"No! Can you just please stay out of it? This is my life. I am of age and have the right to select my own legal representation." And then he added the following part, more to appear strong, rather than — he must admit — out of true conviction, "I trust Marius and his abilities."

"At least let me call on my contacts at the courts. My acquaintance, who is a judge, said that he would be able to see to it that the charges never make it to trial. Of course, he did say this before you were apprehended. I am not sure what he can do for you now that you have been charged. I shall ask him all the same."

"Please don't." Enjolras was feeling exasperated, almost tired of arguing with his father. Obviously, he did not wish to stay in jail, but there _was_ a small part of him that thought that he might have _deserved_ it, that it was only fair if he faced what he had done. "I _am_ guilty of these charges, father. I did incite a rebellion. I did lead those people to their deaths. I did kill those soldiers. Perhaps I _should_ stand trial and let the court decide my fate."

"That would be most imprudent, Émile. You have access to all these different avenues which may help your cause. It would be very foolish indeed if you did not accept them out of some misplaced idealistic desire to be treated like the common man. What will you tell your mother if, as a result, you are convicted and sent away on an extended sentence, perhaps for the rest of your life? It is time you accept that you come from a place of privilege. It does not make you a bad person to use the means afforded to you."

It was then that they were told that their time was up. As he rose up from his seat, his father spoke again, "Now you do what you must. Speak to this lawyer friend of yours. I am certain he will tell you that you need better representation. In the meantime, I will also do what _I_ must. You are my son, Émile, so I will do everything I can to make sure that you do not stay in jail."

Enjolras felt almost tired. He could not stop his father speaking to whomever he wanted to speak to. And he might very well be able to get him out, as a result. But at some point Enjolras had to let his parents know that the life that he was intending to lead, if he ever regained his freedom, would not be one of which they would approve. He needed to make them aware of Éponine, for one…

Not today though, as Enjolras was already being escorted out. His father said that he would come again soon. Enjolras did not say anything back.

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**Author's Notes:** I know this was a short one and there was no Éponine, but I hope you nevertheless liked how much Enjolras already misses her. There was supposed to be another scene after this one, but I ran out of time. It's already Thursday night where I am and I'm leaving on my holidays on Saturday morning, so if I don't post this now, I don't know when you guys will see it. I have my laptop with me though, so I'll keep on writing. It's just that the chapters will likely be shorter and be posted less frequently. If you want to nudge me along through reviews or messages, please do so. I would not mind :-).

So what do we think of Enjolras' dad? I don't want him to be a stereotypical tough controlling dad who disapproves of his son's activities. Enjolras actually does have good parents, though he might not fully appreciate it, because they have vastly different political views to him. His parents really just want him to settle down and quietly enjoy the good life that has been afforded him. Their family has done well persisting all this time by not making waves, so they wish that their son would do so as well. But of course, Enjolras is the worse kind of revolutionary… It's bound to create tension, though his parents have so far been such passive people that they've never confronted Enjolras on his firebrand tendencies until now.

I hope it wasn't confusing reading about the two Enjolras, who (I've decided) have the same exact name (You can call them 'Senior' and 'Junior', hah). There is a reason for it, which I will divulge in the future!

Next chapter should have some more Éponine and Enjolras, so please stick around. Have a good week!


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